


Reborn

by fallenstar2319



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: British Politics, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Founders, Harry Potter is Salazar Slytherin, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Reincarnation, femharry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenstar2319/pseuds/fallenstar2319
Summary: Reborn, he shall lead the four and bring them to an era of balance.  His path shall lead to justice, to peace, and to righteousness.  It is through him that the world shall be brought back to its proper path.  No one ever expected him to return as a girl, though, and no one expected her to be jaded and cold.





	1. Awakening

The bed was small, too small.  Faint memories reverberated through her mind, of her childhood until now.  They were swallowed, taken in and sorted by his memories, by his knowledge.

Her head ached as she opened jade eyes, looking about the cupboard.  His soul ached as its magic sorted his mind, reordering things and controlling the amalgamation of Dorea and Salazar.

She blinked, and then stretched.  How odd, she awoke from her reborn slumber as a child.  How old was she, 8? Not even in the double digits. It was unheard of, but Salazar didn't care.  No, she had far more enraging things to take care of now.

Her relatives.  Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and little Dudley.  The boy she could forgive, as he clearly didn't have the mental capacities to know any better than what his parents taught him.  If he didn’t learn from her teachings, then he would pay. But the parents, their crimes were far too atrocious to let slide.

Salazar hummed under her breath, pondering about what to do with this situation, in particular, how to handle it without drawing attention to herself.  She closed her eyes, drawing herself into her mindscape.

It was the same as it had been all those years ago, but different at the same time.  A simply cabin along a forest, with a garden and orchard surrounding. What was unseen to any strangers was that the forest was filled to the brim with her own defenses, and the cabin was simply a distraction.  Salazar paused and studied it for a moment longer, remembering her days as a boy running from her family and hiding in that cabin, and then grinned.

The single best way to handle this, given the circumstances of her Awakening, was to create another Dorea for the mindscape.  A split-personality, as the mundanes had described it, one that could take the cabin and distractions while she kept her true mind hidden inside her fortress of trees.

The split personality was exactly as Salazar saw Dorea.  Small, underfed, pale, and shy. All of the personality of Dorea, that Salazar could put together from her memories of this life, were pushed into the creation with exact precision.  Salazar and Dorea smiled at each other, exact imitations of each other.

 _You’re gonna keep us safe from now on?_ Dorea asked.  Salazar nodded.

“But carefully, little one.  Your face will be the one that is seen.”

 _And you’ll be the one working in the shadows,_ Dorea finished, a wicked gleam in her eyes.  Salazar laughed, understanding exactly how this would end up working against anyone that dared tried to touch their mind.

“Exactly.”

* * *

 

Petunia Dursley didn’t know how, but everything had gone completely wrong.  They were no longer regarded as normal by the neighbourhood, instead seen as odd and cruel - and they dared to accuse her precious Duddy of being a _bully_!  Clearly they had never seen a real bully, like that blasted Sn-

No.  No thinking of that murderous freak, he was the reason her parents were dead.  Lily had confirmed it, along with that horrid boy she brought with her.

Petunia sighed and worked on the cake that would be served after this business dinner that she and Vernon were hosting.  She paused, watching her freak of a niece work quickly and quietly on the pork. These associates had heard that they had taken in the freak, and wanted to meet her.  So of course, that meant that the freak had to look presentable.

New clothes.  New glasses - in the very least the freak wasn’t bungling everything around her anymore.

Oh, and giving her an actual room.  Couldn't risk these associates finding out about her cupboard, of course not.  Dudley hadn't been happy about losing his second bedroom, but she had more than made it up to her precious little boy by having his room completely made over, clean and shiny and new, complete with a bunk bed that he desperately wanted for when Pierres would come over.

Petunia was lost in her musings, working on the torte, and didn’t notice her niece’s cruel smirk.

Salazar had come forward, working on the food.  A few spells here and a few spells there, and Petunia Rosalyn Dursley and Vernon Edward Dursley would be completely incapable of eating anything without the taste of blood tinting its flavour.  It was a petty start, but as it wouldn't affect herself, Dudley, or any guests, they would suffer alone. They may suspect something from her, as she was certain they knew of her magic, but there would never be anything that they could prove.

The fools never should have given her access to their True Names, and the power that came alongside that.

“That’s enough, g- Dorea.” Petunia was clearly trying to adjust to sounding like a caring aunt.  Disgusting. “Go get ready, and fix that hair of yours.” Salazar stood back up, brushing her hands off on her jeans, much to Petunia’s distaste.

“Of course, Aunt Petunia.  Do you want me to help with your hair as well?” Polite, courteous.  Petunia looked as though she was about to burst a blood vessel.

“Of course not.  Now out.” She ordered.  Salazar nodded her head and quickly darted upstairs, into her new room.

The illusion that would distract the Dursley family was simple.  It made the room appear exactly as she had been given it - covered in broken items, the bed torn apart in places, a broken writing desk and wardrobe.  In reality, Salazar had adjusted the room to be fit for someone of her standing, expanded slightly with solid oak furniture, impeccably polished, with a plush emerald rug on the floor.  She had a vanity that contained spare makeup that her aunt “lost”, and a walk in wardrobe complete with her Family Trunk in the back.

It had surprised her to find the trunk in the attic one day, but it was buried alongside letters and gifts that were made out to her from a friend of her parents - a Remus Lupin.  If Salazar were to guess, they had been entrusted with the family trunk to give to her, but instead chose to hide it in hopes that she would never be magical.

Thankfully, the Potter Family Grimoire was contained within the trunk, so Salazar had little worries that she had to deal with thanks to it.  

Salazar quickly got changed into the simple sundress that Petunia had gotten her, with ballet flats that matched.  She brushed her hair and began braiding it, taming the curls with her magic in ways that seemed to be forgotten to the world.  She laid the braids against her head, wrapping them orderly and gently using her magic to pin it in place. Next was makeup, which Salazar was just as inexperienced with as Dorea was.  Some lip gloss was all that was necessary, given that she was only turning 9 soon, but she carefully swiped on some mascara like she had seen girls at school do in order to emphasize her eyes more.

Gorgeous jade eyes, which she had gotten from her grandmother.  Salazar smiled at the photo of her grandparents, both sides, that were on her vanity, and the photo of her own parents dancing at their wedding between the other two.

Her heart swelled, knowing that in this life all but her aunt and uncle had loved her so dearly.  She had read the journals her mother and father had left behind, and knew that they had loved her so much that they sacrificed their lives for hers.  She blinked away the tears before they could overwhelm her, and sauntered over to her writing desk. She had letters to write, to this Remus Lupin, to ask about if he could visit her or not.

Having some contact with the magical world would be excellent.

* * *

 

Remus blinked, staring at the letter in his hand.  He had never expected Dorea to write back to him - for 8 years he had gotten no response from her.  What could have gotten a response now?

It was delivered the muggle way, as per the return address that he had placed on his last letter.  She had written her own address for the return, and that address was all Moony needed to snarl within his own mind.

Privet Drive.  The house that Lily had bought for Petunia and her husband to stay safe in.

His hands shook from a combination of fear and anger as he carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded the paper - all muggle.  His gut feeling only got worse.

 _Dear Remus_ ,

Her handwriting was adorably clumsy, as though she was trying to write cleaner than was physically possible for her right now.  She would be 9 soon, so it was entirely possible that that was exactly the problem.

_I’m sorry that I never responded earlier.  Aunt Petunia_

Moony howled wickedly as Remus screwed his eyes shut, rage flowing through him.

Petunia.  Tuney. How fucking dare she, if that bitch laid on hand on his cub he would -

He looked back at the letter to distract him from that train of thought.  It wouldn't be good to rile Moony up like that.

_Aunt Petunia hid the letters you sent me, along with the gifts, in the attic.  She also hid mum and dad’s family trunk up there, so I guess she didn’t actually know what it was.  She never would have let any of it stay in the house if she knew how “freakish” it all is._

_Anyway, that trunk is how I found out about the magical world._

Snarls escaped Remus’ throat, his eyes glowing amber.  How fucking dare Petunia do this! That monstrous bitch would pay, daring to disrespect Lily and James like this!

_It definitely makes things make more sense, that’s for sure.  Especially when I turned batty old Wilson’s hair blue, or when I appeared on top of the school roofs running from bullies._

Apparation!  Rage and joy both flooded through him, she apparated at a young age!  Brilliant! Marvelous! But bullies, bastards that aed to try and hurt his cub -

Remus put the letter down for a moment, and began to meditate.  Moony was too close to the surface, he had to calm himself before he transformed accidentally.  It was known to happen, when werewolves felt too in tune with their wolves. It was why Fenrir Greyback was so fearsome, he was so incredibly in tune with his inner wolf that he was able to transform whenever he wished.

Once he was calm, Remus decided it would best to get something to eat before continuing with Dorea’s letter.  His heart was pounding, his soul flaring with an aching loneliness. She was his cub, the last of his pack.

He couldn’t lose her too.

* * *

 

The letter, in its entirety, both broke Remus’ hear and warmed it beyond anything he had felt in years.  Tears streamed down his face as he read it over again.

 _Dear Remus_ ,

_I’m sorry that I never responded earlier.  Aunt Petunia hid the letters you sent me, along with the gifts, in the attic.  She also hid mum and dad’s family trunk up there, so I guess she didn’t actually know what it was.  She never would have let any of it stay in the house if she knew how “freakish” it all is._

_Anyway, that trunk is how I found out about the magical world.  It definitely makes things make more sense, that’s for sure. Especially when I turned batty old Wilson’s hair blue, or when I appeared on top of the school roofs running from bullies.  It definitely makes more sense than the wind catching me on a jump._

_I guess, since you sent so many letters over the years, that I should at least get to know you some more.  I’ll start - I’m gonna be turning 9 soon, so I’m going into Year 5 soon. I’m going to the same public school that my cousin, Dudley, goes to.  He’s so fat that he looks like a pig wearing a wig, and acts like it too. My favourite subject in school is mathematics, followed by history. We haven’t learned a ton of history yet, but what we have learned is really interesting so far - our teacher wants us to learn as much as we can before we go off to secondary school, said something about history being the most important subject to learn._

_My favourite colour is green, like mum’s eyes.  I wish mine were like hers, mine are lighter and aren’t so bright.  I found her old notes in the trunk that was left in the attic, and I managed to change my room up from them.  Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don’t have any idea that it’s different, I used some spare hairs from them to tie them into the Ward design thing that mum created.  The room is a lot bigger now, and all of Dudley’s broken stuff is long gone. I kept the books, and I really love the Wheel of Time series that one of our classmates got him one year.  I’m surprised that Aunt Petunia didn’t throw it out right away. You know, magic and all that is too “freakish” for her tastes, and these books are full of it._

_If you can send a letter through the postal system, I can answer it again.  Uncle Vernon likes having me collect the mail in the morning while he and Dudley pig out, so I can slip it into my jeans without them noticing._

_I hope you write!_

_Dorea_

Remus smiled at the tone, a healthy 9 year old attitude spilling through the writing.  Her comments about Petunia and Vernon, and their son Dudley, worried him quite a bit, though.  She collects the mail while they eat? She fixed up her room, and made it so they couldn’t see the changes?

Remus growled, not even noticing it.  

If Petunia and Vernon dared to lay a hand on his cub, he would eat them, regardless of his promises to his mother.

 _No_ _one_ hurt his cub.

* * *

 

Salazar hummed and she perched at her desk, reading her family study notes.  It wasn’t the most common thing to do, but many older families retained personal journals and experimentations alongside their Family Grimoire in order to educate future generations on the process taken for certain discoveries.

As it was, the Family Trunk was one such form of study.  Her great-great-great grandfather, Perseus Potter, had created the trunk based on the newly developed Expansions Wards that he and his friend had created.  He manipulated the wards on the trunk to connect to the Family Magic, and created a location in which his family would be able to experiment and test without worry of someone discovering their work.  It was multiple forms of protections, layered overtop of each other in an intricate braid so that, depending on the intentions that a person may have in opening the trunk, it would vary on punishments.

Salazar smirked upon discovering that this trunk was why Petunia had been forced to have false teeth put into her skull; she had tried to open the trunk to destroy the contents, and so the wards responded by damaging her bone structure to be extremely brittle and delicate.  In doing so, all it had taken was her grinding her teeth at Salazar for her to break them beyond repair.

But the rooms, the rooms were magnificent.  Her grandmother, Dorea Potter née Black, had been a Stitch Witch; someone who utilized textiles for magical effects.  As such, she had the trunk create her an entire wing for different experimentations. Looming, knitting, crocheting, dyeing, sewing, seamstressing, tailoring, and that wasn’t even delving into the different types of fabrics that she had!  Salazar drooled at the sight, Dorea had always enjoyed the cross stitch and embroidery that Petunia forced her to learn. Working on it meant that Dudley and Vernon would leave her alone, after all.

Her eyes were caught on Wire Gloves, a weapon she apparently used during the Second World War against Grindelwald and Hitler’s army.  They had various metals for the wire, such as silver, gold, steel - all perfect for a fighting a variety of being. It fit a Stitch Witch, if Salazar was to be completely honest.

Her great uncle, Fleamont Potter, had been one of Britain's most successful Potions Masters, and had created a variety of potions that brought the Potter family immense wealth.  Salazar nearly wept at how gorgeous his potions labs were, she had Water and Air as her elemental alignment and as such Potions had always come far more naturally to her than any other practice.  From her mother’s research, she had the same magic alignments as Lily; the woman had been the youngest Charms Mistress in history(shame that she had refused the Potions apprenticeship), and it was for that reason that the marriage between her parents had been approved of by her grandfather, Charlus Potter.

Charlus Potter was an interesting one, Salazar decided.  He had been extremely involved in politics and history, becoming an unofficial historian himself.  The room he had created in the trunk had been his office, full of rare books and his notes on events and people that he needed to watch for.  From what she could tell, her father had never even touched Charlus’ office; out of respect for his father or out of disrespect for his practices, Salazar couldn't tell.

And quite honestly, she didn't care to tell.  It made the reads all the more enjoyable knowing that it was like a secret shared between her and Charlus.

Her great grandmother, Lilith Potter, had been a Curse Mistress.  Mastery of Dark Arts and Its Cures, was the official title. Her rooms were the most heavily protected, with various labels on the different doors in order to prevent people from entering without taking proper precautions.  Bless her rest, she even left lists of precautions to take on every single door. Across from each of Lilith’s doors was her husband’s gardens; Culain Potter had been a Herbologist with an unhealthy obsession with poisons.

Salazar had to admit, it sounded like the two had a lovely, dark relationship.  Culain had almost certainly helped Lilith in many aspects of her Mastery; poisons were a specific section of the exams, from Charlus’ notes.

Her great great grandfather, Edmund Potter, had been the last official Battle Mage in European history.  Though they still existed in many other cultures, particularly to the east, they were nonexistent in Europe anymore.  Battle Mages had been formally replaced with Duelists, and informally replaced with Hit Wizards. As such, Salazar genuinely squealed in delight when she discovered that his rooms were training rooms; and that her parents had had modern gyms machines and tools added in.  

The other rooms were for Perseus, the Ward Room and his study; his wife Balwant who had used her rooms for cooking and other domestic skills; and for Edmund’s husband, Francesco, his rooms were dedications to art.  Painting, sculpting, pottery; he may not have dived into many different mediums from his own notes, but he had gotten some of everything for future generations to use.

The only rooms that Salazar hadn't entered were Lily and James’.  She wanted to wait for Remus’ response, to get to know her parents through their friend before she dared step foot into their territory.  She didn't know what may be in store for her there, and she knew that the thought of discovering anything that may make her hate her parents broke her heart.

In contrast to her ancestors, Lily and James had left their most important journals, along with letters to Dorea, in the main room of the trunk.  They described how these letters and journals were placed where they were in case they passed away, and detailed the protections that they created on her.  Some of their work, such as some basic warding that Lily and James had worked on for school projects, combined with their details on researching methods of protecting her entirely.

They apologized to her.  Salazar wiped a tear away at the letter.  The sacrifices had to be made to keep her safe, and they didn't want to risk anything hurting their daughter.  She would remain perfectly safe in body, mind, soul, and magic. It explained why her body was a perfect fit for her soul, despite being the wrong gender - if the body wasn’t a right fit, it had to change if possible.

That was, after all, what caused the problems with King Arturia and his son, Mordred.  Both had souls of men, born in the bodies of women, and at the time of their lives, they hadn’t been able to find a way to permanently fix them into the proper gender.

Salazar sighed and scrolled through Charlus’ notes on her previous era once more.  So much information, scattered and lost to all but a few. It broke her heart to know that even her Silver Moon hadn’t been taught to future generations, or that any of their abilities other than her Parseltongue made it into documentation.  Rowena had been a Seer and Alchemist, Helga an Elemental Specialist, and Godric was the best damn Battle Mage that Salazar would ever have met. Herself? A Ward Smith, warding was her speciality, even above potions.

So much history lost because of stupid fools.

She hummed as she looked over the sealed letter that Remus sent her in response - she hadn't opened it yet.  Truth be told, she was extremely nervous to. As Salazar, and as Dorea, the only good relationship that she had ever had was with Mistress Gwenefrei, the woman that took the four of them in, sacrificed her life to build the school’s wards, and promptly had the school named after her.  She honestly didn’t know how to respond to him, to play the role of a child for him.

She was anxious because she knew that she would have to be honest with him, and she was terrified of how he would respond.  She had read the history that Charlus had collected, she knew how she was viewed now. She had become the monster that her brother was.

Salazar clenched her fists, tears running down her face.   _Oh Godric, I should have listened to you,_ she thought. _Sunnifa, Celeste…  My girls… I failed you both._

* * *

 

Remus stood in front of the neighbourhood park, twitching nervously.  Dorea asked to meet him, in person, and he wasn’t sure what to think. She…  Wasn’t anything like what he expected.

She looked nothing like James or Lily, other than her colouring.

Her face wasn’t round, her eyes were a jade colour rather than an emerald, she had the Potter hair, but her face looked far more like her grandmother than James or Charlus.  It took a moment for Remus to realise it, but when he did, it hit him like a train.

She looked like her aunt, Sophia Potter.  Born thirty years before James, she was sold off to Grindelwald’s forces and raped to death by his men.  Her grandparents had never fully recovered from what happened to her, and neither had many of their generation.  He had seen photos and a portrait of her around Potter Manor when he visited James and Sirius summer before sixth year, and good gods did she resemble her aunt more than anyone else.

Dorea looked up at him and smiled.

“You’re Uncle Remus?” She asked.  Remus swallowed and nodded.

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, crouching so as to see her eye to eye.  She was so small… “It’s great to see you again, cub.” Dorea blinked and tilted her head to the side.

“Cub?” Remus silently cursed.

“Sorry, we all had nicknames for you.  James called you Bambi, Lily called you Spitfire, I called you cub, a-” he cut himself off.  “How are you? Is your aunt treating you alright?” He sniffed. Blood, bruised. Anxiety. He internally snarled at the bruises.

“Do you wanna sit?” She asked.  Remus smiled at her.

“That would be nice,” he said.  She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to a bench, near some other adults in the area.  A few mothers gave him a wandering look.

“Dorea, _sweetheart_ , who is this?” One of the women, a brunette, asked.  The _glare_ she sent him sent shivers down his spine.  Dorea smiled up at her.

“This is Uncle Remus!  Aunt Petunia kept hiding his letters to me, and I found them!” She chirped.  The woman looked at Remus oddly. “He grew up with dad, and was friends with him and mum!” Her eyes widened slightly.  “Didja know that Aunt Petunia’s been lying? Mummy and daddy were murdered by some serial killer, they weren’t drunks that drove into a bridge!”  Remus’ head snapped to Dorea.

“She said _what_ about Lily and James?!” He demanded.  Dorea nodded.

“Aunt Petunia doesn’t like mummy, and I don’t know why.” Dorea pouted. “Uncle Remus, why does she not like mummy?”  Remus sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

“She was always jealous,” he said softly.  “Your mummy was one of the best people I ever knew, and your Aunt Petunia was jealous of her because of it.  She said your mummy was the reason your gran and grandad passed in a fire, and never forgave her for that.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, suspicion dancing across her face.  Dorea’s pout turned into a frown.

“Then Aunt Petunia’s the freak, not mummy.” She said in tone of finality.  Remus smiled sadly and ruffled her hair.

“If you say so, cub.”  They were interrupted as some other children dragged Dorea away for a game of tag.  The woman’s glare intensified as the children ran away.

“So.” She looked angry. “You claim to have known her parents.”  Remus met her eyes and nodded.

“James was my best friend.  Lily was a good friend. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

“Then what happened?  Petunia could never keep the story stable when she would talk about their deaths.”

“They were murdered,” Remus said. “Lily and James worked for the government; Lily as an office worker, James as a bobby.  They were targeted by an anti-government group because of their jobs, and were murdered in their home because of it.” Remus closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “Dorea was only 15 months old at the time.  Lily was pregnant.” The woman’s eyes widened with horror at that information.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.  “Why didn’t you take Dorea in?”

“I have a chronic illness, caused when I was attacked by a pack of dogs as a child,” he indicated to his scars from Greyback and Moony.  “I can’t take care of her because of the cost of my medications, it wouldn’t be allowed by the government.” It wasn’t a lie. “I didn’t know where she had been sent, you can imagine my surprise when I saw that she’s in the house that Lily bought for her sister.” The woman’s eyes widened.

“Petunia and Vernon didn’t buy the house?” She asked.  Remus laughed.

“Oh no, they were in a financial problem with Lily bought them the house.  James, Dorea’s father, came from old money. His father was a Knight to the Crown.” He watched as Dorea ran off, faster than any other child on the playground.  “He served in both wars, under King Edward. Charlus would have loved to take Dorea on of he were alive today.” The woman’s eyes widened at the information of Dorea’s paternal family.

“A Knight?” Her voice was weak.  Remus nodded, pride flowing through him at the memory of Charlus.  “Old money?”

“Yep, James was an absolutely arrogant bastard when we were younger.  It wasn’t until his parents passed away that he finally started to grow up - I guess being forced to take on control of his family’s responsibilities and finances forced him to grow up quickly.” Remus shrugged.  “He grew up damn fast, and turned into a man that I’m proud to have been friends with.” The woman looked at him, studying his face, before turning back to watch the children.

“You know, no one in the area likes the Dursley family,” she said carefully. “Care to tell me more about Dorea’s parents?” Remus grinned, hell hath no fury like a bored housewife.

“I would _love_ to.”

* * *

 

Petunia was furious.  No, furious didn’t even begin to summarize the feelings that she had at the moment.

One of those freaks had gotten in contact with Dorea, and was now good friends with Mrs. 6 next door.  Not only that, but he was telling everyone that her sister and her husband were nobility!

She grit her teeth silently, sipping her tea and staring that freak down over the table, speaking happily with Mrs. 6 and Mrs. 3, while Mrs. Widowed 5 was munching on a digestive.  He was entertaining them with stories of Dorea as an infant, and how she caused James to panic when she discovered how to hide. Mrs. 5 laughed wholeheartedly of how he spoke of Lily’s reaction to finding Dorea behind their loveseat.

“ - and so Dorea, nibbling on one of the cat toys behind the couch, just smiled at Lily and myself while James was in a panic over in the kitchen.  You should have heard him when we said we found her, I don’t think I’ll ever see someone so relieved yet so terrified at the same time,” Remus said, ending his story with a sip of tea.  Mrs. 5 leaned forward.

“Do tell, did Lily and James get married because of a pregnancy?” Heads jerked at the sheer audacity of the question. “I mean no harm, but would they were so young, and as I recall almost none of your generation plans on children before the age 30 now.” With age came a crassness that Petunia strongly disapproved of.  Remus smiled wildly at her.

“They were married 11 months before Dorea’s birth, however they had already been targeted and attacked by anti government groups twice since we left school, so I suppose they got married and had Dorea for the safety and the concern that they wouldn't be able to do so later,” his face turned terribly sad. “And, sadly, they were right.  They never even got to the birth of their second child.”

Petunia spat out her tea at that, hacking and coughing.  Second child - Lily had been pregnant when she died?! All of them looked at her in horror.

“They didn’t tell you?” Remus whispered, eyes wide. “No one told you about that?  They knew for months at that point.” Petunia shook her head, coughing in agony of having breathed in some tea.  Mrs. 6 thumped her on the back, helping clear her airway.

“Oh dear, I shouldn't have asked…” Mrs. 5 fretted, looking at Petunia in concern. “I’m so sorry for finding out this way…” Petunia breathed in deeply for a minute.

“I - I had never been told details,” she confessed. “Dorea as left on our doorstep, in a basket with a few belongings, with a note explaining that Lily and her husband were dead.” Remus’ teacup shattered in his hands, his eyes blazing with fury.  He completely ignored that his hand was bleeding, or Mrs. 3’s shriek of shock. Mrs. 5 grabbed Remus’ hand, pulling shards of porcelain out of his flesh and gently dabbing at his hand.

“Oh dear, this is deep,” she muttered to herself. “We’ll have to take you to a hospital to get sutures…” Remus closed his eyes and breathed in for a minute.

“A _letter_ ?” He whispered.  Petunia froze as she recognised the anger in his voice.  He was the one who kicked her from Lily and James’ wedding.  “She was left on your _doorstep_ with nothing but some _belongings_ and a _bloody letter_?!” His rage was palpable, and Petunia found herself nodding in fear.  Mrs. 5 bonked him on the head, successfully distracting everyone from his anger.

“Hospital.  Now. Petunia, dear, get the car.”

* * *

 

Dumbledore was signing papers for the Wizengamot when Minerva knocked on his door.  He looked up as the door opened.

“Minerva, what is this visit for?  The school year just ended.” He asked.  Minerva sighed and held the door open for an enraged Remus Lupin, eyes glowing amber as a sign of how close his wolf was to the surface at the moment.  His wand hand was covered in fresh bandages. “Remus? What are you -”

“A BLOODY _FUCKING_ LETTER?!” He roared, his hand twitching.  Albus knew if he had his wand in hand, that he would be cursing up a storm.  “YOU LEFT DOREA WITH _PETUNIA_ , OF ALL PEOPLE, WITH A _BLOODY_ _LETTER_?!” Minerva sighed more deeply.

“I did tell you that was a horrible idea, Albus, I-” Remus whirled on her.

“YOU _KNEW_ ?!  YOU KNEW _WHERE_ SHE WAS, _WHO_ SHE WAS WITH, _HOW_ SHE WAS LEFT, AND _YOU DID NOTHING_?!” Minerva’s mouth flattened into a thin line.

“Now young man, that is no way to-” she never finished her sentence as Remus slapped her across the face.

Albus jumped from his chair, portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses shouting.  Phineus cheered for Remus, calling out that it should have been done ages ago.

“Remus!” He barked.  The werewolf turned to glance at him, and then turned back to Minerva.

“Don’t you _ever_ address me as a student of yours again,” he snarled, closing in on a now terrified Minerva. “ _You_ lost that ability the moment you abandoned my cub without second thought, without a check in the world.  Shs is now nothing to you, and I’ll make sure that she knows _why_.” Minerva was white, staring at the werewolf that she had taught in front of her, enraged and intelligent and powerful, her internal feline shaking in fear at the wolf before her.

He turned back to Albus, who had his wand aimed directly at Remus.

“Minerva, leave.” She didn’t need to be told twice, skittering out with a speed that was inhuman. The door slammed shut behind her, and cold blue met angry amber.

“What are you doing, Remus.” It wasn’t a question.  Remus shifted and stared at Albus.

“Lily and James left a letter for me, written in blood.” Albus blinked in surprise. “It was in the Family Trunk.  It named Dorea’s Blood Father.” Cold horror struck Albus, and he fell backwards into his chair.

No.  They couldn't - they didn't - he didn't _know_.

“What have I _done_.” He whispered, his face turning as white as his beard.  Remus glared at him.

“If you had informed me earlier, we could have prevented this.” Albus held his head in his hands, tears burning his eyes.

He failed.  He failed so horribly.

“What of the trial…?” Albus whispered.  Remus jerked in confusion.

“I thought _you_ judged it.”

The two stared at each other, slowly realising in absolute horror what had happened.

 _Sirius had never gotten a trial_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 5,886
> 
> I feel like that is a good place to leave off; I rewrote this chapter several times trying to get things right.  
> In the end, I introduced Remus in order to advance plot that I have planned without butchering how cunning and chess-master Salazar Slytherin would have been. As someone who cunning and planning is not their most valued trait, Remus would act and act and act. As such, I will wholeheartedly admit that he is being used here. I have ideas that I am tossing around, namely other Awakened characters, but nothing is anywhere near finalized.
> 
> Sirius coming out of Azkaban is absolutely necessary for plans; namely, for development of relationships between multiple characters.
> 
> Now, because I know people will ask: Snape murdered Lily’s parents as his initiation to join the Death Eaters. Thus why she never forgave him in the end.
> 
> No. He would never have been godfather for the child that she was having. They had planned on naming Remus godfather and, if she hadn’t been killed a month prior, Margaret Bones as godmother. The reason being that, due to events of the war, it would be safer to have Nobility as godparents that would have access to more stuff to keep children safe.


	2. Trials and Tribulations

Salazar hummed as she worked on an embroidery that Aunt Petunia gave her.  It was simple, just a few iris flowers on a handkerchief, but given how she needed something to focus on, it worked beautifully.

She had a Blood Father.  And she was now sitting next to Remus in a magical courtroom, awaiting his trial for the murder of her parents.

This day couldn’t possibly get more stressful, because if he was found innocent, which he should, then good gods would this cause nothing but chaos and insurgency in the magical government.

To her right sat her Blood Father’s grandfather, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.  He had greeted her with kindness, his eyes looking familiar. Salazar liked him as he calmly whispered explanations to herself, taking her under his wing for the political scene.  It simply made sense, given his experience.

Remus was great and all, emotionally and intelligently, but politics were something that she absolutely had to know, and if Arcturus Black could guide her, then she would happily accept his wing.

Next to Arcturus sat her his daughter-in-law, Walburga Black, mother to her Blood Father.  Also his niece. 

Salazar almost scrunched her nose with distaste for the woman, who openly sneered at her.  Bitter hag needed to die yesterday, if this was how she reacted to her son’s innocence.

The mumbling of the courtroom fell into silence as the doors opened, the guards of Azkaban bringing Sirius into the room.  A chill filled the air, and Salazar felt her small body fill with utter dread at the familiar chill of those  _ monsters _ .

Her brother had created them in order to attack Camelot, and it resulted in the deaths of thousands.  Salazar herself had fought her way to her younger brother, and in the story that would later be adapted into Arturia’s tale, the two delivered fatal blows onto each other.  She had died, surrounded by her living family, in Godric’s arms. Her final moment was surrounded with the screams of agony of her loved ones.

She shook silently, flashbacks of her death flooding her senses.  A warm hand rested on her shoulder, and Salazar looked up at Arcturus with wide eyes.

“I will not let them harm you,” he whispered protectively.  Salazar smiled slightly, and only just caught the whisper, ever so slight, that his magic released.

_ Master _ .

Her eyes widened minutely, and she tilted her head to the side.  Arcturus looked down at her, silver eyes glinting with a mischief and magic that Salazar hadn’t seen since before the Final War of Camelot’s Fields.

_ Merlin _ .  Wyrrden.  Her apprentice, Awakened in the form of - if Remus was correct - her Great Uncle.

Her magic soaked around his hand, taking comfort in the presence of a familiar soul.  His brushed against her comfortingly, aching to shove all masks to the side and embrace the soul who had been as close to a father as he could have ever asked for, even in his current life - Sirius Black, his birth father, had been an abusive ass.

But they were Slytherins, and masks were their second magic.  As such, they both turned their attention back to the trial of a family member.

The trial was slow, dragging on for ages, unlike Salazar's experience with her own trial, all those years ago.  There were three different questioners; Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law and its Enforcement.  Albus Dumbledore, Head Judge of the Wizengamot, Chief Mugwump of Britain, Representative of Britain to the International Confederation of Wizardkind, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Bartemius Crouch, Head of International Relations and the man who threw Sirius in Azkaban in the first place. This was the first sitting trial of the month long process that was planned in this instance, as every single shred of evidence had to be gone over at least 3 separate times.

Truth serum was not to be used; the only time it was used was when the questioned refused to answer.  Rather, the chains on the chair that Sirius was sat in would lash out should the questioned give an answer that was not the truth.  Salazar recognized the magic used on it, it had been used since her previous life. It had been why Arturia had chosen to only banish her, rather than execute her as Mordred had wanted - she hadn’t lied or excluded a truth once in her trial.  Sirius was shaking, and Salazar felt enraged at the state of the man, having been exposed to those monsters for almost a full decade. Her blood boiled at the thought of his agony, and she knew that blood would flow in his name.

“Name of the Accused: Sirius Black, son of Orion and Walburga Black,” Dumbledore announced for the court scribe.  “Date of birth: November 3rd, 1959. Age: 29. Crimes of the Accused: Betrayal of the House of Potter, leading to their deaths at the hands of Lord Voldemort;” Salazar allowed herself to cock her head to the side at the winces.  Merlin’s look told her that she would be informed of why later. “The death of Peter Pettigrew, and the murder of 12 muggle witnesses. How does the accused plead?”

Sirius’ head jerked up, seeming to have finally realised what was going on.  His eyes were wide, and as they met Dumbledore’s, a spark of life returned to them.

“N-Not guilty,” he stuttered, his voice hoarse from disuse for 8 years.  Whispers flooded through the courtroom, only silenced when Dumbledore slammed his gavel down.  There was a hard look on his face.

The entire process was…  Dull. Salazar was almost disappointed.

They provided the evidence against Sirius to Dumbledore, Amelia, and Crouch.  They then argued the evidence. And argued. And  _ argued _ .  Sirius didn’t have a representative for him, and as such he was arguing on his own - and seemed to be holding up at least decently well.  

* * *

 

Court came to a break, Sirius was escorted out first, and Remus, Salazar, and Merlin went to a restaurant for some food.  Walburga didn’t come with.

“Lord Black,” Remus started politely.  “The odds of Sirius being innocent -”

“Certain.” Salazar and Merlin said in synchronization.  Remus blinked.

“What makes you say that?”  Salazar’s eyes flashed to Merlin, Arcturus, for him to explain, and she took a sip of her milk.  He cleared his throat.

“He’s calm,” Merlin clenched his hands together, hiding the shaking of anger that tried to escape.  “He’s calm, he’s providing logic to his arguments. Not to mention the complete disregard of process, and the fact that House Crouch has a grudge against House Black for Andromeda running away, violating a centuries old marriage contract, and marrying her current husband - that would explain why he was sent without a trial to begin with.” He took a sip. “Very simply, if he’s able to argue this well after 8 years in Azkaban, then there’s no guilt to the story from him.”  Salazar put her milk down.

“He jerked when he realised he was getting a trial,” she said quietly.  “That isn’t something that someone hoping to get off on a crime would do.  He’s shocked that people want to listen.” Remus blinked at her, and Dorea smiled up at him. “Aunt Petunia is a fan of crime dramas.”

“She’s right, though,” Merlin said.  “There’s a new hope, a new life, to him.  One that I had never seen when I would visit him and Bellatrix in Azkaban.”

“You visited -?!” Remus was cut off.

“They may be imprisoned, but they are family,” Merlin said firmly. “Besides, visiting Bellatrix involved scolding her for being such a waste of talent.  She could have done such incredible things for the magical world, if only her anger didn’t get the best of her.” Salazar raised an eyebrow, Merlin’s tone of voice giving it away that he had been scolding her about that for this Bellatrix’s entire life.  She seemed to be similar to Morgana, but with less self control.

That sounded  _ extremely  _ dangerous.

* * *

 

Salazar kicked her legs in the air under her seat, bored out of her  _ bleeding mind _ .  This was the 3rd week of trial,  _ thank the gods _ that this was happening over the summer break from school.  It was clear that Crouch was being stubborn on the issue, however the past three weeks of the trial had clearly done wonders for Sirius.

He was still as physically disgusting as that first day, but he was  _ alive _ .  His skin had colour, his eyes had sparkle and life, he was more energetic, more bounce and more bite to his words.

And the chains hadn’t reacted  _ once  _ to any of his statements of innocence against the crimes he was accused of.  

As Crouch tried to same bullshit for the - gods knew what number it was - time in a row, Salazar deliberately let out a loud, obnoxious groan that fit a bored 9 year old.  Court went silent as everyone stared at her.

“Can I ask some dang questions now?” She demanded.  Merlin looked at her, horrified by her audacity. “You keep accusing him of killing _my family_ \- I think I should get a say!”  Wide eyes, studying, realization. Youthful looks with a crisp, experienced mind. 

Dangerous combination.

Crouch spluttered.

“Young miss - Heiress Potter -”

“Pup?” Salazar looked at Sirius, whose eyes were wide with shock.  “Pup, what’re you - why’re you -” He swerved towards the judges, anger marking his face.  “ _ Who the bloody fuck decided to let a 9 year old to sit in court?! _ ” Amelia Bones raised an eyebrow.

“She’s been here for three weeks, Mister Black,” she informed him.  Sirius’ hair raised with anger. “As for who decided to let her, she asked to attend the trial.”  

Salazar smirked slightly, almost impossible to see.  Merlin noticed and looked at Sirius again, calculating.  Anger. Fear. Concern.

Parental concern, something that he had intimate understanding of.  It was then that he realised exactly was his Master wanted him to do.

“And as for the dementors?” Merlin asked, standing up.  The entire court was silenced, with Crouch finally shutting his mouth as he realised what was going on.  “We had been informed that they were not to be around the court, assured every time that it was an error, yet they continue to return?”  Crouch was grey as Bones and Dumbledore sent him side glances. “Lord Crouch, I believe that that aspect of this trial is under  _ your  _ jurisdiction?”

Uproar.  Dumbledore slammed his gavel down once more.

“Enough!” He barked, standing up.  Salazar’s eyes glinted, and Merlin sat down, feeling his age in his heart.  His damned master… “That is enough interruptions for this trial! We will continue the proceedings  _ immediately _ .”  Salazar pouted as she leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed at the ankle.  She had received some proper training on how to behave over the past three weeks, Merlin thought, but his Master would never truly separate from the wild maelstrom that she always had been, and always would be.  And now that she was a child, she was forcing herself to exert more control to compensate for short fuses that came with a young brain.

Gods how he feared for the first time this new world sees her Silver Moon, and the devastation that caused her to be remembered as a Dark Lord.  It was the exact opposite of Godric’s Crimson Shield, which was why Salazar and Godric had been so magnificent fighters together. He knew exactly what could force his Master to take on that mantel once more, and he knew that it would spell the doom of millions of lives if she did.

Dumbledore looked over at Crouch, and then over to Bones.  His gaze then changed over to Sirius, then Salazar, and finally Merlin.  Salazar smiled at him, her eyes seeing his wards. Intelligent, to ward his glasses to show magic rather than enchant them - it made for a much longer lasting effect, and much more stable, as warding did not involve reliance on the spellcaster’s abilities.  The warding must have been written into the frames themselves, what with them being silver, making them a balancer for the wards, as silver was used for moderation and balancing. Clever, clever, and with near constant contact with a magical source - Dumbledore himself - the wards would never die out unless the glasses broke.

The trial continued, however at the end of it, Crouch was also placed under investigation for violating the laws and allowing the presence of dementors around a child.  Sirius seemed to be delighted by that, as Aurors came to escort him from the hall instead.

Salazar’s eyes glinted, as Crouch fought violently against the Aurors who dared to take him to a questioning room.  He was stunned and put under formal arrest - and no one would be any the wiser of her actions regarding it.

After all, she  _ was _ a Ward Smith.  All she had to do was manipulate the wards a tinge, just to focus the ire of their magic on Crouch himself.  Not even Dumbledore’s glasses would stand a chance to figure out what happened, and that made Salazar almost smile.

_ Almost _ .

* * *

 

Salazar sat across from Merlin in his office, leaning back in her chair with a sardonic look on her face.  Merlin stared her down, feeling sweat drip down his spine.

Just what had he gotten himself into, having the Girl-Who-Lived as his Master.

“Wyrrden,” Salazar drawled, resting her head on her hand.  Merlin shifted, not looking her in the eyes, instead focusing on her nose. “What happened after my death.” Merlin closed his eyes and leaned forward, slowly peering at Salazar through over his clasped hands.

“Shortly after you died, the Druidic Wars began,” Merlin began. “They were led by Mordred against Arturia, who forgave Guinevere for her affair with Lancelot.” Salazar sighed and glared at her student.

“None of that would have happened if you hadn't pranked Arturia on her wedding night, you know.” Merlin held up his hands in a defensive stance. “Arturia was male in spirit, but female in body.  She disliked it, and would have happily accepted a permanent body change, but completely accepted it as part of her understanding of her duty - I have nothing but respect for her putting everything above herself,” Salazar’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you tarnished it with your  _ prank _ .”

“It was necessary to secure the image of her being King, you know as well as I that not one of her knights would have accepted her as a woman in body.” Salazar laughed, and empty, sarcastic laughed.  Her eyes glared forcefully into Merlin’s own, her sclera silver against her jade irises. Merlin felt as though death was brushing against his neck, seeing those eyes again.

“ _No_ , Wyrrden,” Salazar sneered.  “They respected and honoured Arturia for her _strength_ , her _honour_ , and her _sense of duty_.  They wouldn't have given a bleeding  _ fuck _ if she was female or not, they would have supported her just as they supported Rowena and Helga,” Salazar scolded Merlin, and stood up.  She slowly sauntered around his desk to grab his face as she continued. “But of course, Wyrrden, you must  _ always _ know best.  You must  _ always _ be the one in the right.  No matter what anyone else says, you prideful, ignorant, idiotic,  _ brat _ !”

Merlin sat in stunned silence as Salazar efficiently tore into his mind, reading through all the information that she wanted and not leaving his inner world in shreds.  It was a skill that he had never learned from Salazar before her death, and one that her siblings had refused to teach him for accidentally causing the Druidic War, one that they had all learned from their Mistress Hogwarts.

Salazar tutted as she looked over the information of the Druidic Wars, of the separation of Magecraft and Witchcraft.  That Mordred and Arturia actually did die in the way that the legends claimed only slightly surprised her, however the actions of the Mage Society, as they called themselves now, had her blood boiling behind an emotionless mask.

They set Highland Trolls, the breed of trolls that almost exclusively raped their victims to death, on Helga when she was meeting under a truce.  Rowena burned the entire breed with Soul Fire, burning away the marks of love for her children on her soul to eliminate those vile creatures from existence.  They weren’t even recorded in historical texts, and Salazar internally swore that the Mage Society would pay for their crimes against  _ her _ family.

Godric died in battle, the second last battle of the Druidic Wars, as honourably as Salazar knew he would always die.  On his feet, bested purely from exhaustion and not from skill - though being completely sloshed hadn’t helped him one bit.  He praised the boy that dealt his final blow, a stab that wormed it way between layers of protection from sheer dumb luck, before lopping off his head.

Rowena contracted a severe illness that had her bedridden for the rest of her days, her daughter dying from the hand of that stupid Baron that had been constantly pursuing her.  Rowena died knowing that the Baron, who she sent after Helena in order to bring her daughter and heir home, was the one to kill her daughter.

Her broken heart from that is what killed her in the end.

Morgana married into House Black for protection after Camelot fell, and the witch hunts began - and they were worse than they had been under Uther, as the Mage Society and Magical Society were no longer working together for their own safety.  They sold each other out, countless innocents slaughtered because of how they damned each other. The knowledge of Circuit Foci, as they were now called, faded to near non-existence, and the knowledge of how to utilize witchcraft and magecraft together died with Merlin’s generation.  No one was willing to learn both thanks to that stupid war.

And that didn’t even begin to touch upon the information about this  _ Lord Voldemort _ that she discovered, the Gaunt Heir and the bastard son of a nameless whore who  _ dared _ to use  _ her bloody name for himself like the yellow bellied cowardly piece of filth he was _ .

Salazar pulled herself from Merlin’s mind, and stroked his face in an almost motherly manner.  “Such an _idiot_ apprentice I have, but don’t worry,” Merlin’s eyes widened with fear as he recognised the look in Salazar’s eyes. “I’ve already set plans for motion in case all of that  _ did _ come to fruition, like Rowena predicted.”

Merlin paled as he understood what Salazar, his Master, the one whom Magic would tear him asunder should he betray, meant.

Gods, help them.  Salazar was going to tear their worlds apart and build it in her desired image because of how things fell apart - and it would be over a thousand years in the making.

* * *

 

Dumbledore groaned at the evidence, before him, Minister Fudge and Amelia Bones reacting the same way.

This was not good.  This was not good  _ at all _ .

Crouch had gone above and beyond to try and destroy the Black Family, and was implicated in large amounts of corruption, fraud, theft, kidnapping, Line Theft, torture, use of the Imperious Curse, and murder.  

He glanced at the papers before him, remembering the look in Dorea’s eyes as she stared at Barty Crouch.  The sadism, the understanding - she masked it well, but not well enough to hide from his eyes. Whatever it was she knew, it was due to something that Dumbledore feared may make her worse than Tom ever was.

But more importantly, when she looked at Sirius, he saw the same protectiveness in her eyes that he saw in her grandmother’s eyes, whenever she would look at James and Sirius herself.

The look of a mother that lost a child.  But why would Dorea Potter have that sort of look in her eyes?  Dumbledore frowned slightly at the thought. It simply didn’t make sense; perhaps she had lost a good friend?  Accidents did happen, especially to muggles - yes. Yes, that  _ had _ to be it.

“This is a nightmare,” Fudge groaned, flipping through pages.  “It’s a damn miracle that he didn’t make it to Minister - a bloody miracle.”  Amelia leaned back in her chair, running her hands through her hair.

“Murdered his wife and kidnapped his son from Azkaban,” she muttered.  “How could we have missed the magical signature not matching.”

“And that doesn’t even begin the madness of the Sirius Black case,” Dumbledore threw the paper on the table.  “Falsification of evidence, altering of memories - Crouch kept such detailed journals that he’s damned himself.  And  _ everyone  _ in the Ministry and Wizengamot needs to be tested for what he’s done.”

“At least we can now get testimonies from his son as to everything that happened during the war,” Fudge offered. “It may give us further insight on why the Potter and Longbottom families were attacked.”   Dumbledore rubbed his eyes.

He was getting a migraine.

* * *

 

Sirius was in awe as he was declared innocent of all charges, with the evidence that Crouch had stolen finally presented.  Namely, his wand, which Crouch had stolen from evidence archives.

Free.  He was free.

“Mister Black will be compensated as accordingly for his incarceration, and subsequent treatments to repair any and all damages done will be done so at the cost of the Ministry for this gross oversight,” Dumbledore announced, with a sulking Fudge at his side.  Sirius smiled brightly, for the first time in almost a decade.

He was  _ free _ .

He turned, eyes bright with joy as he looked at his Blood Daughter, Dorea.  She didn't look as much like James as she looked like Sophia, memories of her portrait lingering in his mind.  Her eyes were green, but the wrong shade to be exactly like Lily’s.

Honestly?  It made it easier for him to separate them from her, since he wasn't looking at a carbon copy of her parents.  It was… Less painful to look at her. His pup, his darling.

And  _ no one _ would keep him away from her again.

* * *

 

Salazar smiled up at Sirius, the man had taken to braiding her hair in traditional fashions in order to keep it neat and organized.  Merlin and Walburga also were present, the latter being sullenly silent as she glared down at her son. Merlin, on the other hand, was studying Walburga.

“Walburga,” he began slowly.  “Care to explain why Sirius, despite having had multiple partners in his 6th and 7th years, was only able to have a Blood Daughter to have a family?” Walburga froze, her fat face twisted into a look that combined contemption and a sour grudge.  Salazar looked up at Sirius, who was staring at Merlin in surprise.

“I don't kn-”

“Don't you _dare_ lie, Walburga,” Merlin snapped, standing up and towering over his niece.  “You know the family laws - you cursed him, despite knowing that Regulus couldn't have children to begin with.”

Walburga snapped her head to look at Merlin, shocked at what he said.

“What do you -”

“You.  Were. There.” He ground out.  “Regulus was born incapable of having children; why do you think none of us ever had any questions about not disowning or disinheriting Sirius except for  _ you _ .” Merlin leaned down, his anger and rage clear in the air, but hidden on his face.  “So tell me why I shouldn't enact Ancient Law in order to punish you for attempting to destroy  _ my _ family line,  _ your _ family line.”

Walburga's face twisted in hatred. “He deserved it, turning to that bitch of an aunt -”

Walburga didn't get to finish her sentence before Merlin slapped her, hard enough that Salazar thought for a moment that he had snapped her neck.

“Remember your place, you filthy meaker!” Merlin shouted for the first time that Salazar had ever seen, and despite her best efforts, he terrified her.  It may have been Dorea's memories and experiences that influenced her, but Salazar immediately grabbed Sirius’ sleeve for comfort. “My sister was a million times the woman you would ever be, and don't you ever  _ dare _ insult Knights to the Crown.” Salazar blinked, she hadn't known that her grandmother was a Knight.

Interesting.

“It was because I refused to join Voldemort,” Sirius spoke up for the first time. “It wasn't until I got back to Hogwarts that I found out that she forced Regulus to join in my stead.” His voice was low, dark and angry.  Salazar wanted to sigh at how easily he showed his anger; Merlin was more frightening because she knew the level of control that he had over such an emotion.  Sirius, though, had no qualms about showing everything that came to his mind across his face.

Speaking of, Merlin straightened back up from where he had been leaning over Walburga, his jaw clenched and his eyes closed.

“ _ Toujours pur pour la famille _ ,” he whispered.  “Always pure for the family.  Do you forget what that means, Walburga?  The very oath you swore when you married my son?” 

Silence.  Walburga stared at the floor, at the wands that they had placed in the centre of the room.  For safety, Merlin had claimed when they entered. Now Salazar knew what his plan had been.

“Always pure for the family, always supportive of the family, always protecting the family,” Merlin continued.  “The oath that has existed in our line since Morgana le Fay joined our bloodline, during the worst Hunts in history.  Family. Is. First.” He turned back to his desk, grabbing an item that Salazar could not see. “And you decided that we were  _ nothing  _ for your ambitions and hatred against people like  _ my niece _ .”  Salazar felt a significant amount of pride in Merlin, she could smell Walburga’s urine from where she sat.  She was, of course, still terrified at the same time.

“That filthy mudblood -” Quick as a snake, Merline slapped her so hard that Salazar couldn’t help but gasp at the impact.  The fat throughout Walburga’s body shook from the impact, her head having snapped around so quickly that Salazar almost thought that it had killed her for a second time this afternoon.  Salazar felt no fear this time, only a sadistic pride that he would be able to kill Walburga so easily for _daring_ to insult Salazar's genius of a mother.

“ _ Lady _ Lily  _ Potter _ ,” Merlina snarled, intentionally putting emphasis on the title and family that Walburga was insulting.  “Was formally approved of by my sister,  _ your aunt _ , upon her merit and magical power alone.  This approval was given almost immediately after her OWL grades were released, having broken records for some of the highest grades in Hogwarts’ history.” Salazar blinked and turned to Sirius, who nodded.  Pride swelled through Salazar, and she couldn’t help but puff up at the information. Her mother, one of the best students in recorded history at  _ her  _ school.  She knew that her mother was a genius, but to possibly be as intelligent as Rowena and Helena... “Regardless of how I may or may not feel about her heritage, she is in every right a woman of respect and honour, and I will  _ not  _ allow you to insult someone of her standing while sitting in my presence.”

The only way Salazar could feel more proud of her mother was if the woman was in her House.

“So tell me, Walburga, why I shouldn’t exile you.” Sirius perked up immediately at the mention of the punishment, while Walburga sank in horror.  “Not only have you committed crimes against your own family, but you have countlessly insulted someone of a higher standing that is  _ my  _ peer.  So do give me a reason to not exile you, and my dear,” Merlin leaned in close to Walburga’s ear, and Salazar recognised the glint in his eye.

He didn’t want to exile Walburga.  He wanted to slaughter her like the beast she was.

“Make sure that your reason is a good one.  You have 24 hours.” With that, Merlin stood up straight, grabbed his wand, and walked towards the door.  He paused, and indicated for Sirius and Salazar to follow, and it went without question that all three of them left Walburga in the room, staring at the floor in front of her, terrified at the consequences of her own actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am changing the Magical legal system to be more representative of England’s legal system (particularly during the trial of Charles I, of which the opinions I have on that will not be addressed.) As such, things will be fairly different - I despise how trials are written in most fanfiction, with the case being solved in a single hour. I know the basis of it is the hearing that Harry had in OotP, however a trial and a hearing are very different things.
> 
> This story will have mild crossovers with a variety of other shows/books, and this chapter begins to highlight that: Arturia and Mordred are taken from Fate, as is the Mage Society. However, there will not be active roles from Fate for the Mage Society, any characters that are supposed to be part of the Mage Society are of my own creation.
> 
> Word Count: 4,924


	3. Mundane Days

Salazar clenched her jaw as the moron she was paired with stepped on her foot for the third time this session.  She ignored his apologies as she limped off the floor, grabbing bandages to staunch the bleeding of the toenail that he had broken.

Glancing up from the bloody work, she grimaced at the display of the children her age from the dance floor.  Merlin had felt it would be appropriate to enroll her in dance classes, despite Sirius’ protests, and she had agreed to it.  The logic was simple, she had to learn to allow others who she knew were worse than her to take the lead, and there was no better place to do that than dance lessons.

Of course, the reason that Merlin had given Sirius and Remus was that as an Heiress, and Viscountess to House Potter at that, she needed to learn the language of dance to survive noble circles.

They had started with a simple waltz, and though Salazar had gotten it well on the first try, the boys she kept being partnered with…  If she lost all of her toenails after these lessons were done, she would not be surprised at all.

“That looks painful,” the assistant instructor said sympathetically, crouching down to help Salazar with the bandaging.  “Thankfully it looks to be nothing more than broken skin under the nail, other than that, there doesn't seem to be any damage.”

Okay, so Salazar was a bit dramatic.  Bite her.

“Is there a lead that won't try and break my feet?” Salazar asked grudgingly, as she began to clean the blood out of her dance shoes.  “Anyone?” The assistant instructor hesitated for a moment, and then stood up.

“There may be - let me check with Mrs Hyodo.” With that, the woman turned on her heel and made her way across the studio.

Salazar ignored everything around her, using her magic to clear out the rest of the blood.  None of the mundanes around her would notice, afterall, the rag she had in her hand was covered in blood as it was.  Though the broken skin stopped bleeding quickly, it was clear from how much blood that Salazar had lost that she needed to be careful.

Perhaps she had a disorder that made it easier for her to bleed?  She made a mental note to check on that with Merlin.

“Miss Potter,” Mrs Hyodo stood in front of Salazar, with a boy right beside her.  “I want you to try the waltz with Justin here. If the two of you work together as a pair, then you will remain a couple so long as you dance here.” Salazar nodded, and looked at the boy almost hidden behind her instructor.  Taller than average, round face, soft brown hair.

Needless to say, he was an adorable kid that made Salazar want to stomp out any threats to.  She blamed having lived to 30 in her past life.

“Hi Justin,” she smiled at him. “I'm Dorea, Dorea Potter.”

“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” he introduced himself.  “Are - Are you okay?” He asked. Salazar glared down at her foot.

“Just broken skin, got stepped on too many times.” She stood up, brushed off her legs, and smiled brightly at Justin.  “So take care of me, yeah?”

* * *

 

“They're a great couple,” Sage, the assistant instructor, commented.  “Good height dynamics, their builds compliment each other, and Justin is careful enough a lead to not step on her feet more.” Marisa, the instructor, nodded.  The two of them watched as Dorea and Justin completed a simple waltz around the studio, shocking the other children their age.

“Indeed, the problem Dorea was having is she is too strong to simply accept being a partner,” she commented. “She's very aware of herself and the space around her, so she subconsciously attempts to lead from the partner position.  Justin is a careful lead, and is extremely aware of the people around him.” Marisa's eyes narrowed as she watched the two children discuss the dance.

Justin was the son of a friend of hers, someone she had long since been rivals with on the competitive dance circuit.  Jolene, his mother, had come to her screaming and crying because her father-in-law had been caught abusing Justin viciously.  Her husband had refused to press charges, but had cut all contact with his father anyway. Jolene had been devastated by that.  She knew an abused child when she saw one, and those two children lit up every warning light she had. Dorea had been far too calm with pain, bandaging her own wounds with a precision she had only seen in experienced athletes, and with her awareness of herself and everything around her -

“Sage, take over.  I have a meeting with a client.” Marisa said suddenly, turning on her heel and walking out of the room.  Sir Black, the man who enrolled Dorea, was sitting in the waiting room. “Sir, may I speak with you in my office?” She asked sweetly, smiling at the elder.  She didn't mistake the slight narrow of his features, the glint of suspicion in his eyes. She had far too much experience watching the every move of performances to even think about missing small details.

“Of course,” he replied, gathering his items and standing up.  Together they walked into Marisa's office, where she closed the door behind them. “May I ask what this is about?”

“Sir, how long have you been Dorea's guardian?” She demanded.  Arcturus blinked at the question.

“I'm not; she is my great-niece, and my grandson is her godfather.  He recently received partial guardianship of her.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why.”

It wasn't a question. “Who have been her primary guardians this entire time?”

“Her maternal aunt, I am her paternal family.  Has something happened?” Suspicion, concern. Marisa could see the fear in his eyes, and began slowly.

“Sir Black, how often do you see a 9 year old bandage wounds that would have grown men screaming in pain over without hesitation, let alone when it's their own.” Marisa asked, not really asking.  Arcturus’ eyes widened, horror flooding his face and erasing a carefully concealed mask. He knew nothing about it, then, and it was her maternal family.

“You don't mean -”

“Dorea walked on, and bandaged, a completely split toenail without hesitation, and then continued to dance on it.  That alongside her hyper awareness of everything around her, and I strongly believe that she has been at least physically abused in the past.” Arcturus swore violently, mildly surprising Marisa.

“I'll destroy them,” he swore, a fire burning in his eyes that Marisa didn't recognise.  “I'm going to _fucking_ _destroy_ them.” 

Marisa was taken by surprise for a moment, and then nodded. “Do ensure that any legal actions have me as a witness, and as for any illegal actions - I have seen and heard nothing.”

It wouldn't do for her to rat out the patron of her studio.

* * *

 

Salazar watched Merlin carefully out of the corner of her eyes.  She could feel his rage waving out of his magic, even now as he drove ever so calmly.  She had her suspicions as to what it may be about, but she refused to ask.

“Don't interfere with my plans, Merlin,” she warned quietly.  She watched as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“They hurt you.” It wasn't a question, and it wasn't just a statement.  It was the beginning of a threat.

“And as I said.  No interfering.” Salazar's eyes narrowed.  “I will not have another Brín situation our hands.”

Merlin closed his eyes momentarily, thanking the red light.  Brín had been an apprentice alongside Merlin, betrayed and stoned to death by his family for being a witch.  Salazar and Merlin had both gone in their own methods of revenge, with Helga having covered their asses in legal matters.  As Salazar was his Master, it was deemed that Brín's family had broken their contract and therefore Salazar had been legally in the right in his actions.  

Salazar had also taken the blame for Merlin's revenge, not that anyone would have told on him.  He had been a child, who had lost someone he had seen as his baby brother.

“Master,” Merlin sighed.  “I… I cannot allow them to get away with what they have done to you.  Regardless of what they may have done.” Salazar studied her student, a smile barely gracing her face.

“And they won’t, Merlin.  I can assure you that.” Salazar looked out the window, watching as people passed by.  The car moved again as the light turned green. “My plan is delicate enough that I cannot risk any unplanned actions, though.  With that in mind, do  _ not _ tell Sirius or Remus of what you know of my life there.” Salazar didn't need to look at Merlin to know how much agony he was displaying, masks be damned.

“Master,” Merlin said quietly, after a few moments of silence.  “What part do those two play in your plan.” Salazar hummed quietly, debating as to whether or not she should inform him.  With a bit of silent thought, she came to a conclusion.

“Remus has already started his part well, and continues it excellently.  He arrived, dispelled the lies that were told about my family and their deaths, and has destroyed my aunt and uncle's social standing in the local circles.” Salazar began, feeling that she should at least trust Merlin with this.  “Sirius, however, I require something else of. With his trauma and the crimes against him being public knowledge in both magical and mundane worlds,” They both ignored the censoring of the events for the mundanes. “I will have to keep an eye on him before I make a final plan for him.  He is…”

“A wild cannon,” Merlin finished for her.  Salazar nodded. “Remus, we both had interactions with for months.  Sirius, on the other hand, has been magically and mentally tortured with the presence of dementors for approximately the past decade.”

“Making experience with him foggy, as no one knows what the long term effects of such extended exposure to those vile monsters are.” Salazar stated bitterly.  It went without saying that she read every book she could find that talked about the things, only to get the barest of knowledge. 

“I'll search for further information on them,” Merlin muttered, thinking as he drove.  “Perhaps… We could use Sirius to re-establish the current governance. Bring the old checks and balances back.” Salazar snorted.

“You mean the Crown's Ward,” she grumbled.  “Who the bloody fuck thought it would be a good idea to get rid of that in the first place.” Merlin glowered at the road.

“My _fucking_ _father_ , that's who.” Merlin never spoke of Sirius Black the elder, his father in this life.  “Bastard ruined a millenia's establishment, all for some more pocket change.” Salazar glanced up at him.

“So how was his blood on your hands, then?” She asked.  Merlin grinned darkly.

“His screams were delicious.”

Salazar smirked slightly, and returned to people watching.  Merlin and Morgana had been cut from the same cloth, although from opposite sides, and it entertained her to no end that people had forgotten about this.

* * *

 

Petunia wanted to cry.  Dorea was more of a monster than she could have ever imagined, forcing Petunia to host this…   _ Freak _ .  He was older, dressed in what was clearly some of the most expensive clothing Petunia had ever seen - and the entire neighbourhood had turned their heads to look at him as he drove up.  Offering his arm to Dorea, treating her like a princess… And all the neighbors had seen, too.

At the moment, he was entertaining Dorea with stories of her grandmother - her namesake, apparently.  Petunia gripped her apron tightly at the mention of her grandmother having been knighted by the late King, alongside her grandfather and this Duke Black.

“- And so my sister broke your great-uncle Fleamont's nose, and your grandfather refused to have it healed other than naturally.  When you visit Potter Manor you'll see it in his portrait, he has a boxer nose because of his own idiocy.” Duke Black explained, Dorea giggling at the story.  Petunia placed a tray of biscuits in front of them, and silently clenched her jaw as Dorea gently took one and nibbled on it.

“Oh, Uncle,” Dorea started, quietly putting the biscuit down with her tea.  “I found a photo of mum and dad - would you be able to have it put in a locket of some sort?  Something I could wear daily?” Duke Black smiled and pat Dorea's head.

“Go get it, and I will do everything I can to make that happen.” With that, Dorea skipped up the stairs to her room.  The moment Dorea was gone, Petunia froze as the shadows in the room grew stronger and began moving.

“A most interesting observation occurred at Dorea's lesson today,” Duke Black's voice was icy, his grey eyes growing paler.  Petunia slowly tried to back up, only to bump into a shadow figure. “She bandaged injuries and continued on without so much as a second thought.  Quite interesting, isn't it, that a child of such a quaint household would have that capability.”

“She - that freak -’” a shadowed tendril wrapped itself around Petunia's face, covering all but her eyes.  She began fighting, panicking at the fact that she couldn't breathe.

“So tell me, you  _ monstrous bitch _ , why I shouldn't skin you now and use your hide for journal for my dearest niece.” Duke Black closed in on Petunia, his eyes mere centimetres from hers. “Tell me why I should spare your life for daring to ever harm my dearest, most precious, most beloved niece.”

Petunia scrambled, fighting against the shadow, panic flowing through her veins.  With a lack of air, her vision began spotting - Duke Black took his wand out of the cane it was hidden in, and pressed it up against her sternum.

“Consider this your only warning: touch my niece again, and I will slaughter all of you.” Her chest burned, tears flowing freely from her eyes as the pain took over her senses.  Petunia fell limp in the shadow's grasp as Duke Black finished the branding and hid his wand once more. A cruel smile crossed his face.

“Is it done, Merlin?” Salazar called from the stairs.  The shadows receded, and Petunia collapsed on the floor.  Merlin turned around and greeted his Master in the entry hall.

“The brand is placed, tied to the Potter Family.  You should have complete control over her internal organs come morn.” Salazar smiled brightly at him, skipped down the stairs, and kissed his forehead from the lower landing.  

“Excellent, thank you for that.  And as I was being honest earlier, here,” she handed him a carefully folded photo.  “Please be careful with it, as I have yet to find a copy of it.” Merlin smiled slightly and nodded, carefully placing the photo in his jacket pocket.  Salazar, for a moment, looked at him softly - kindly. Merlin felt his heart stop for a moment as the image of Salazar's previous form, as a teacher to many students, flashed above the girl standing before him.  No, not quite like when she was teaching -

“Now for some fun,” as quickly as the softness was there, it was gone, replaced with a malicious glee.  Merlin watched as Salazar sauntered over to her aunt, and used her own foot to move the woman's head.

That soft look - Merlin only had a few memories of it.  It was the same look that Salazar had before Sunnifa, her wife, was murdered.  After that, she had changed, and quite honestly for the worst.

The Salazar that history feared, the Salazar that Arturia had banished for crimes unforgivable to the Crown, the Salazar that stood before him even today - this was the Salazar that survived watching Sunnifa burn at the stake.

* * *

 

Dudley was very not happy with Fr-  _ Dorea's _ changes lately.  His mummy was scared and in pain whenever he or his daddy made Dorea angry, so daddy and him were made to be nice to Dorea.

He frowned, and glared at the ground.  Dorea had somehow managed to get Piers expelled from school, and Malcolm almost died because of it.  His teacher had told his mummy and daddy that Piers had brought and knife to school and tried to kill Malcolm, so now Piers was being sent to a stupid school for - what did daddy call it? - juvenile delinquents.  That's what happened to kids who got in trouble with bobbies, because that's what the telly said.

Dudley, of course, knew what really happened.  Piers liked Dorea, and tried to play with her the way daddies played with mommies.  Dorea didn't want to play, so Piers got angry and tried to hurt her. Malcolm pulled Piers off, said something about his older sister and family rules.  Piers and Malcolm got into an argument, and stormed off in different directions.

That was when Dorea laughed, and stood up from where she had been sitting when Malcolm shoved her away from Piers.  No one else in the gang was around, they had walked away with Malcolm because of something he had said. They wanted to get him back in the games.  

Dorea winked at him, and Dudley had been frozen as she turned into Piers.  She grabbed a stick off the ground, and walked off - exactly like Piers! - after Malcolm.  Since the cameras caught Dorea-Piers stabbing Malcolm, and Piers-Piers wasn't on camera, the bobbies believed Piers-Piers had done it.  Then Dorea cried and told them about what Piers had been playing with her, and that Piers - not her! - must have stabbed Malcolm because he stopped the games.

Daddy was going to sit him down tonight, and explain what Piers had done.  Dudley was just confused, because they were playing.

Yeah, it was mean to make Dorea play without permission, but it was just a game.  She shouldn't have been so upset!

Vernon sat Dudley down across from him in the living room, Petunia taking care of Dorea upstairs.  Maybe. He thought.

“Dudley, what Piers did isn't a game,” Vernon explained slowly.  Dudley frowned. 

“But it's a game mummies and daddies play a lot, isn't it?  That's what Piers said.” Vernon closed his eyes, pain seeping into his heart.  No matter how he may have viewed the Freak, no matter what they did to her, sexual assault - no.  Piers had tried to rape the Fr-  _ his niece _ .  And then tried to murder the boy who stopped him.

God, what happened to that boy to teach him this shite?

“Dudley, what do you know about the birds and the bees?” Vernon asked gently, trying to figure out a way to describe this to his son as calmly as he could.  Dudley frowned and looked up at Vernon.

“Daddies and mummies play games together, and those games can put a baby in a mummy's tummy.  Not all babies get born though - like when Mrs. 6 mis- miscarried?” Dudley asked, not sure about the word.  Vernon smiled slightly and nodded. Good, age appropriate. He was only 9, after all.

“That's right, Dudders,” he ruffled his son's hair, and Dudley beamed at his father. “But, when someone doesn't want to play that game and is forced to, that is a  _ crime _ .” Dudley blinked in confusion.  

“Does…  Does that mean Piers really hurt Fr- Dorea?” Vernon nodded at his son's question.  Dudley then looked seriously scared. “Does that mean Piers was hurt by his mummy, too?!  She taught him those games!” Vernon felt all the colour drain from his face. God, he had let that woman around  _ his son _ !  

“Dudders, we need to let the police know about that,” Vernon said seriously.  Dudley looked even more scared at the prospect of talking to the bobbies. “Trying to make another adult play is a bad crime, but forcing a child to play is even worse.  If Piers was forced to play with his mummy - we need to help him out by letting the police know, alright? If she didn’t do anything, everything will just go back to normal.” Dudley calmed down and bobbed his head repeatedly, nodding vigorously in agreement with Vernon.

As Vernon went over to the phone to call the police, all he felt was a strong desire to pour himself a nice, tall glass of brandy.  Fucking pedophiles, ruining his Tuesday, living in his bloody neighbourhood, hurting kids and causing scandals…

* * *

 

Salazar was fairly surprised by the turn of events that occurred - namely, that Vernon Dursley had become  _ protective _ of her.

Now, she had to admit he did have a reason for it.  Piers had assaulted her, attempting to molest her. Thankfully, she had been able to drain her magic in creating the illusions that he had succeeded more than he actually had - changing video recordings exhausted her.  Gods, she hated not having a fully developed magical core, she was so  _ weak _ .  

After that, a simple illusion over Dudley that would convince people that there was something wrong with the boy.  When Malcolm and the other boys tried to drag her to a teacher to report what Piers had done, Piers had brought out a small pocket knife and stabbed Malcolm, the primary enemy in this situation.  It was incredible the change of heart that Malcolm had shown when Piers tried to assault her - given by the aura he gave off, it seemed that he had known something about what it meant to be assaulted.  Her heart broke at the concept.

Back to Dudley, though - she had been astonished by how easy it was to change his memories.  Perhaps it had something to do with how stupid he really was.

As for now, Salazar was being protected by Vernon against even Petunia - apparently she had left Dudley with a concussion when she changed his memories, and that a mundane reason for his thought process.  Vernon readily accepted that Dudley likely created the memory out of fear of her magic and confusion about what had happened, whereas Petunia was right about her for once.

“We should just drown that freak when we get the chance, Vernon!” Petunia hissed at her husband.  Salazar hummed in her room, her listening device working beautifully. It was completely inspired by mundane bugs, and used runes to work activate.  “She's done nothing but bring us harm!”

“Do you even hear yourself, Pet?” Vernon's voice was incredulous.  “Potter's family is highly respected by the entirety of society, and her uncle has the ear of the Queen.  The bloody  _ Queen _ , Pet!”  There was a slamming of some cupboards as Petunia stormed about the kitchen.  “Now a pedophile ring has been caught, and the neighbourhood is bending over backwards to help Potter because she was key in revealing it!  How would you explain it to them?” There was a moment of silence, then Petunia's heels clacked on the linoleum floor. A crack of skin sounded out, and the sound of someone spitting.

Salazar stood up and walked downstairs, concealing her rage.  So, Petunia was the heart of the abuse after all. She had thought it was Vernon -  _ damn _ her own mind and biases for thinking the best of that housewife.  

Salazar entered the kitchen midway through Petunia beating Vernon, screaming obscenities at him for daring to question her.  He was cowed, in a way - clearly her beatings were more for dramatic effect than they were to actually harm. But her words…

Petunia gasped as Salazar compressed her lungs, her eyes faintly glowing with rage.  Vernon had manhandled Salazar, and expressly never did anything that could even leave a mark.  She would never forgive him for that, for not just enabling in, but participating and encouraging the abuse of a child.

Vernon looked at Salazar with wide eyes, shocked at her appearance.

“You'd better by quiet,  _ Auntie _ ,” Salazar spat at the choking woman. “The neighbours are going to hear your shite and think it's Dudley or I that you're beating.” With that, she cancelled the effect of the brand.  Petunia loudly gasped for air as her lung swelling back to full capacity.

“Potter -  _ Dorea  _ \- what did you -” Vernon's eyes were wide at the display of malicious magic that Salazar performed.  Salazar blinked twice, and Dorea came forward.

“I made her stop hurting you, Uncle Vernon,” Dorea's tone was confused and sweet, full of childlike innocence.  “That's what Uncle Arcturus does when Walburga tried to hurt Uncle Siri and I.” And it wasn't an exaggeration, either.

Salazar, or rather Dorea, had been absolutely terrified of the Black dame.  She had been threatening Sirius and herself when Arcturus swooped in, using the family wards to torture Walburga in front of them.

Salazar and Sirius hadn't thought anything of it.  The divide from keeping Dorea and Salazar separate, however, became apparent when the young girl took over, screaming at Arcturus to stop it.  It was - odd, to say the least. Salazar and Dorea were slowly working on merging together, however they both acknowledged that at least until Hogwarts their separate existences were needed.

“Po- Dorea,” Vernon's voice and face were soft as Petunia slowly scrambled away, clearly terrified at the mere mention of Merlin. “What you did - that isn't okay.” Dorea looked genuinely confused, and Salazar roared with laughter within their mind.

Her?  His? Their.  They. They were a they so long as they were separate.

“But Uncle -” Vernon cut Dorea off.

“No buts, you could have seriously hurt your auntie.  While you did have good intentions,” Vernon winced slightly at even  _ saying _ that.  Ah, he thought this was normal for a relationship, then? “That doesn't change that what you did was wrong.  Go to your room, your auntie and I will clear this up.” Dorea nodded, sadly, and together they slunked up the stairs to their room.

Salazar took over again, and they continued listening to the bug.

“Pet - do you understand what just happened?”

“That bitch just tried to bloody murder me, Vernon!  Tell me why I shouldn't bloody fucking gut her!”

“Maybe because you had it coming, Petunia,” Salazar blinked.  This was the first time that they had ever heard him raise his voice at anyone but them.  “Do you think that I haven't paid attention to her - her -  _ stuff _ ?  That she only uses it when she feels  _ threatened _ ?”

“Oh yes, because Beauchamp -”

“Was recently fired for being caught abusing children, Petunia!  She was  _ beating them _ when the principal and the board walked into class to ask to _ talk to her  _ about the accusations!  Dorea changed her hair colour - we know she did it.  Do you not think it was because Beauchamp tried to hurt her and other students?” Petunia was silent.  “We never had a single complaint about Dorea or Dudders from Beauchamp after that event, did you not think that maybe Beauchamp connected that it happened because she threatened students in front of Dorea?”

“That doesn't change that she  _ tried to kill me _ , Vernon.” Salazar and Dorea both rolled their eyes at their aunt.

“No, and I will handle the punishment for that,” Vernon was firm.  “I was fine with letting this shite happen so long as it didn't impact Dudders or Dorea, but clearly it's impacted them.  Do you know how distraught Dudders was that you ignored Piers when  _ he tried to talk to you about his mother _ ?!”

Salazar jerked back, deactivating the bug.  Their mind reeled from that revelation - Petunia knowingly ignored a pedophile.  A pedophile that she let her son be around. A pedophile that she let into her own house.  Rage boiled throughout Salazar, a rage that hadn’t been felt in ages.

Salazar darted down into the Family Chest, so that way no one else could hear their roaring laughter.  Petunia had royally fucked herself over, and Salazar hadn't even had to do anything active to do it. All that was needed was for them to reactivate that spine they knew he had.

* * *

 

That night, Salazar and Dorea spent their dreams screaming at each other in their mindscape, reaming each other out and violently attacking their surroundings over their daytime actions.

“She’s our family, Salazar!” Dorea screamed, throwing a pillow at Salazar’s head.  Salazar dodged it with ease, raising an eyebrow at the lashing out.

“And let her get away with this?”

“Of course not!  It’s being taken care of, isn’t it?” Salazar narrowed her eyes at the demand.

“She deserves it!  After everything she’s done - to all of us!  Why shouldn’t I be punish her like she deserves?  Vernon can’t do it, the law will just turn a blind eye again - so clearly I have to do it!” Salazar growled back.  Dorea rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Oh, and that went  _ wonderful _ last time, didn't it?  Only got banned from the kingdom and kicked out of the school you helped bleeding create!” Dorea shouted at the irritated Salazar.  “Can you not use that brain that you're  _ so _ proud of for once and not act like an utter idiot?!”  Salazar swelled up, feeling the anger burn in her chest.

“And what would you prefer, that we let them get away with everything?  That we never punish them for _their_ _crimes_?” Salazar demanded.  Dorea looked almost as though she had slapped her across the face.

“Of course not, I don't want you acting like a monster, Sal!  You've come so far - I can't -” Salazar took a step back as Dorea's image shifted, knowing what was happening.  No - why - she couldn’t be - why would -

There was never mis-identity within her own soul.  She knew who she was, and what she had done - but this,  _ this _ …

Sunnifa stood before Salazar, tears streaming down her face.  Dorea had been the memory of her, the good that Sunnifa had always brought put in her.

“I can't lose you to yourself  _ again _ , Salazar,” her voice was broken, her eyes dead as tears streamed down her face.  Salazar burst forward, desperately trying to grab her wife, only to have her turn to ash at Salazar's touch.  “Not it you want to be mine.”

It took a moment for it to truly connect to Salazar, but the moment it did, she wept.  For the first time in a thousand years, Salazar Slytherin wept for the loss of her love, her wife, and her hold on her own humanity.

Sunnifa was right.  She was becoming a monster, just like the one she died to bring down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,240
> 
> Holy crap did this chapter take a while to work out. Sorry for a late update, but school decided to work out in a nasty way that took most of my energy with it.
> 
> So, for an explanation for the Dorea/Sunnifa: She was a mental manifestation of what Salazar had ignored in order to act out before her death, in avenging her wife and in fighting to save Camelot. Her turning to ash is Salazar acknowledging that she has to work on herself, and that she cannot just continue to be cruel and dark without facing any consequences. Basically dream sequence with subconscious being mean.


	4. Chapter Four

The trip to Gringotts was not so dramatic, to Sirius’ surprise.  Dorea was hidden under an enchantment that kept eyes off of her; it impressed Sirius how careful his goddaughter really was when it came to her fame.

She was nothing like James was at that age; she was far more like Lily in that aspect.

As they strolled through the streets of Diagon, avoiding students shopping for the new school year and adults shopping for day to day needs, Sirius honestly wondered why his Granddad had sent him with Dorea for the Heirship Rituals rather than taking her himself.

The Heirship Rituals were a tradition amongst pureblood and noble Houses, to discover any unclaimed inheritances that a child may have.  It was performed on the 10th birthday, today being Dorea's, so that the child would have a year to adjust to their claims (or lack thereof) before they entered the social circles at Hogwarts.  

With Dorea, Sirius was extremely anxious; who knew how many random people left her everything before they passed away.  She was so famous because of her survival, and so many families died without heirs because of the war. Then the opposite was true as well - so many families were left with orphans, so much so that Heirship Rituals were actually made required by the ministry after a year of peace.  According to Arcturus, they were trying to keep magics alive, but it was obvious that they were just trying to keep the valuables inside out of goblin hands.

The two walked up to Gringotts, slowly making their way through the summer crowds.  Sirius noticed his cousin, Narcissa, and her son walking out as he and Dorea walked in.  Narcissa seemed calm, her son seemed sour over something. Sirius chuckled slightly, knowing that a Malfoy brat hadn't received the results that he wanted - likely the Black Heirship.

The line for the Heirship Rituals were long, and Sirius stood there anxiously as the enchantments on Dorea were clearly seen through.  He wasn't sure what it was - maybe they could naturally see through them?

Finally, after what felt like years, they reached the front of the line.  The goblin completely ignored Sirius and focused on Dorea, eyes narrowed.

“What reason do you have to conceal a customer?” The goblin growled.  Sirius stuttered, but Dorea answered.

“To prevent kidnapping attempts,” she smiled kindly up at the goblin.  “My name is Dorea Potter-Black, and I am here for a Heirship Ritual.”  
  


Salazar knew exactly how the goblins were able to see past the enchantments.  Their eyeglasses were specifically made to do such a task - she would know. Rowena was the one who created the concept, and gave it to Gringotts when their clan began their bank.  It was in formal exchange for all of their weapons, and given that they still used the enchantments, it was clear that it was a well worthwhile deal.

The goblin before her studied her for a moment, and Salazar remained polite.  Straight back, eye contact, no hesitation, tight stance with neck slightly revealed.  As a guest in their domain, she was the submissive party.

“Very well, you will be escorted to the Ritual Chambers and the Waiting Chambers shortly,” the goblin stated, addressing Salazar and Sirius respectively.  “As per standard, the results will be reviewed with the Heiress first, and anything that is considered confidential will be concealed from all but the Heiress.”  Salazar blinked, as she hadn't expected that. Sirius nodded and looked down at her momentarily.

“It's in the case of subjects such as Creature Heritage.  Some cases, such as with Changelings, it is safer to keep information like that private.” Salazar nodded in complete understanding.  Though she had never encountered a Changeling, in this life or her last, she could understand how dangerous it could be for a family to discover that their child was not actually their child.  Brín flashed through her mind - no. She  _ intimately knew _ all too well how people reacted to that type of information.

“Of course,” Salazar regarded.  “I  _ can't imagine _ how some people would react to finding out their family lied to them about their heritage.”  There was a bitter sarcasm there, and Sirius pat her head in sympathy, not knowing what came to Salazar's mind.

He knew what Petunia had done.

The two humans followed the goblin teller into a waiting room, which was surprisingly empty.  It allowed for them to sit and wait for almost half an hour, reading some newsletters on recent discoveries made by Gringotts and those they employed.  Sirius was also able to give Salazar a most fascinating and impromptu lesson about how Gringotts worked on an international level.

The bank itself was a pocket plane attached to the world, allowing for unlimited expansion and growth with magical populations.  The carts were created with a rune system that the goblins would use to transcribe not just the vault being accessed, but which country to return to.

“So, as a result, after the end of the Grindelwald War,” Salazar still thought that was a stupid name for the Second World War. “It was a formal treaty written between the ICW and the High Priestess of the Goblin Nation that Gringotts would not transfer people between countries without formal approval from both magical governments first.  Mostly, it's just used for international trade agreements between Ministries now.” Sirius explained, smiling down at Salazar. She nodded, because for once people actually used logic in how they made decisions.

“Did Uncle Arcturus help on that treaty?” Salazar asked, deceptively sweet.  As much of an idiot as Merlin was, he was one of the few that she actually trusted in the Magical World to actually fucking use logic anymore.  Sirius nodded.

“Him and your granddad, Uncle Charlus,” he confirmed.  “It's part of why they were seen as such an intense political duo.  They didn't always see eye to eye on most subjects, but when they worked together it was apparently terrifying to watch.” Sirius paused in contemplation.  “I wonder if we could get some Court Memories of that.” Salazar blinked, thinking it over. 

It only made sense that not only would they physically record the events, as she saw in Sirius’ trial, but that they would also keep recorded memories of trials.  It would allow for a more analytical look over of the trial after the fact.

Looks like some people could actually use their brains, who knew.

“Viscountess Potter, Miss Black,” a goblin that entered the waiting area stated.  “We are ready for you now.” Salazar stood and followed the goblin into the ritual chambers, her mind quickly working on several questions.

The line for the Heirship Rituals had been long.  So why had the waiting room been empty? Was it a matter of her title of Viscountess, soon to be Duchess when she reached the age of inheritance?  Was it because of her fame, and the goblins did not wish for her to be mobbed as she came for a standard procedure? Or was it something else entirely?

The ritual chambers, as Salazar and the goblin entered, were small.  There was a priestess and a priest along the far wall, as well as a goblin Rune Master.  Not quite the same as a Wad Smith, like Salazar was, but a highly skilled tradesman (trades-goblin?) that was capable of maintaining runic magic during rituals.  Rowena and Salazar had both acted as Rune Masters in their time, depending on what was needed. 

“Viscountess Potter,” the Priestess greeted her, as the goblin that escorted Salazar closed the door to the room behind her.  “Shall we proceed?”

* * *

 

Arthur Weasley thought himself to be a smart man.  Perhaps not the wisest, but he certainly wasn't stupid.  He was the Head of the Muggle Affairs Department in the Ministry of Magic, and had earned that position entirely on his own merit.

As much as many nobles sneered at his work and his curiosity with muggles, his department was vital to the Statute of Secrecy and it legally being upheld.  His department worked hand in hand with the Auror and Obliviation Departments, and he personally had to sit in on every budget meeting and never once was made to defend his department's existence.  As much as many mocked him for his work and ridiculed his department, they knew all too well that the ICW would have all their heads if England revealed the secret of magic because they closed down his department.

Thus, after the trial of Sirius Black and the revelation of the abuses of power by one Bartemius Crouch (Senior), Arthur was one of the first people brought in for testing of mind manipulations.  He was shortly after the Minister, Fudge, the Auror Department leads, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and a handful of Unspeakables that worked with various departments in the Ministry.

Arthur always thought himself a smart man.  He knew the basics of how the protect his mind, thanks to the war.  Crouch never interacted with Arthur more than was necessary for Department Heads, so there would be no reason for Arthur to be targeted by Crouch for mind magics.

Of course, Arthur never said he was a wise man.  And it was for that reason, when he walked into the meeting between himself, an Unspeakable, and a Mind Healer hired from another country, that Arthur was surprised by their reasoning for insisting he be tested first.

“Mr Weasley,” the Mind Healer spoke.  Rude of him to never introduce himself.  “Your position is absolutely vital to the continued secrecy of magic.  If someone were to influence you, it would influence Magical England's relative secrecy, and therefore influence the world's secrecy.” 

“I'm just a Department Head, there are methods and reasons that could catch any of that,” Arthur insisted.  The Mind Healer raised an eyebrow.

“And if they were the erase your memory immediately after being exposed?  What then, Mr Weasley?”

Arthur frowned, it made sense.  Too much sense - he tried to think of any time that he would have had his back turned to someone capable of doing that.  His head hurt a bit, and he couldn't figure out why.

It was in the instant that he began to wince in pain that he was slammed back into his seat, straps constricting his movement to the minimum.  His wand was confiscated and handed over to the Unspeakable, who performed… Something.

“What's going on?” Arthur demanded, struggling against the binds.  The Mind Healer looked sympathetic, while the Unspeakable spoke. Their voice was disguised thanks to the enchantments on their robes.

“Mr Weasley, you're showing positive signs of mental manipulation.  The pain you felt was due to the wards in the room, combined with Mind Healer Laurin's keywords, revealing that you have had some mind altering spells cast on you recently.”  Arthur blanched, and froze in place. “For reference, recently can mean as long as 10 years ago, given your current age. Had it been longer than that, the pain would have been relative to an intense migraine due to the time in which your mind would have integrated the magic into its system.”  10 years -  _ the war. _

“I - during the last months of the War I was placed under the Imperius Curse,” Arthur confessed.  Few people knew about it. “It would be in my medical file - I was made to deliver an assassination tool to a spy in the Auror Department.  They failed to kill Auror Moody, and that is what caused the spell to be discovered.” The Unspeakable paused, and shuffled through some papers and nodded.

“This is true.” They said to Mind Healer Laurin  “What is your recommendation, specialist?” Laurin rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Arthur's arm.

“For safety's sake, we'll undergo the tests.  One of the reasons why the Imperius Curse is considered an Unforgivable is not just due to its forceful control of another being.  It is also due to the fact that this curse weakens mental protections, thus causing the victim to more easily fall influence to other mental magics.  Many Death Eaters were discovered to have been completely possessed by the Dark Lord during the War through this method - most of whom were pardoned.” Arthur's jaw dropped in shock.  He had no idea - why didn't that information get shared - why wasn't it taught -

“Shall we commence?” The Unspeakable asked.  Mind Healer Laurin nodded, and placed a piece of leather in Arthur's open mouth.

“Apologies, this will be agonizing.  We cannot knock you out due to the process of the method, you must be conscious.”  Arthur slowly nodded, bracing himself for the pain.

And by the gods, was it  _ agonizing _ .  Arthur nearly bit clean through the leather in forcing himself to not scream - tears ran down his face, all he wanted was for this to end even if they had to kill him -

And as suddenly as it began, it ended.  The piece of leather was removed from Arthur's mouth, the straps that held him down released.  Mind Healer Laurin helped Arthur turn over to his side as he vomited, violently vomited as a response to the procedure.

“Apologies,” Mind Healer Laurin whispered.  “It is the only procedure that is safe for the mind, that we know of.”  Arthur coughed and dry heaved, forcing the remaining vomit out of his mouth and nose.  “If I may, I can relieve the side effects.” 

Arthur mutely nodded, still coughing and dry heaving.  Mind Healer Laurin flicked his wand in an intricate formation, and Arthur was finally able to clearly breath.  His nose burned painfully, thanks to the vomit, but the rest of the pain from his muscles attempting to contort and strain against his binds faded.  The vomit was vanished by the Unspeakable, who walked forward and sat next to Arthur.

“The procedure was worthwhile, however.  You had well over 2 dozen Obliviations in the past 10 years successfully performed on you,” Mind Healer Laurin gasped sharply, as Arthur held his head.  It was strange, being able to think as clearly as he could now..

“It is a fucking miracle zat you were even competent,” Laurin's accent, which had been exceptionally faint until now, came out clearly in his rage.  “The amount of damage zat could have been done to you -” Arthur lunged, and grabbed Laurin by his upper arms. He was sweating, pale, and panicked.

“My family - he's with my family!” Arthur sputtered out.  “I have to - Hogwarts, my son -”

“Who.” The Unspeakable demanded.  Arthur looked over at them, tears beginning to flow from his eyes at failing to protect his family from  _ him _ .

“Peter Pettigrew,” he whispered.  The Unspeakable shot up. “He's - Scabbers, my son's pet rat.  It's Pettigrew.”

* * *

 

Salazar sat, leaning back, in a formal chair.  There was a goblin student next to her, apologizing for the delay.  She rolled her eyes and held her head in a single hand, leaning over the student's form.

“So, why was the waiting room empty when there was a large lineup for the rituals,” Salazar asked.  The student shuffled and bit and glanced around.

“I-I'm not really supposed to say -” Salazar sighed and leaned back, rolling her head against the top of the chair.  “But it's based on value of customer when they arrive. More valuable, more privacy.” Salazar paused, and then pursed her lips in a strange n shape.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Salazar conceded.  She glanced over at the student. “Know why it's taking so long?”  

“Well, uh, High Priestess Pheranx demanded to oversee the handling when the Ritual ended -” Salazar laughed, tears coming from her eyes in sheer joy of what she had heard.

“Gods above, she did the ritual we helped her create,” Salazar wheezed out, wiping away her tears.  “I knew she intended to - but I didn't think she'd take that debt on herself.” Salazar's joy became muted as she pondered what this meant.  “I suppose she's overjoyed to have some of us back, then. No longer alone.”

Gods, she had done everything she could to bury the pain of being alone when she hadn't known about anyone else.  It had worked, given that she had focused instead on her ire against her blood relatives, but now that their punishment was in hand…  The loneliness crept in.

They were gone.  She couldn't find them, and now, she had found the only other person she knew of that was alive during the Uther Witch Hunts.  By the gods above and below, finally having someone who understood meant the  _ world _ to her.  Merlin could somewhat understand, but he could never fully understand the terror of the Uther Hunters and their capabilities in the kingdom.

Salazar was silent, almost sullen as the loneliness and the misery that came along with it.  The student to High Priestess Pheranx shuffled, extremely nervous around the girl in front of her.  She had been instructed to treat this girl as though she were the family of the High Priestess herself,  _ by _ the High Priestess herself.  Even for being a member of a Ley House, that did not explain why this girl was so highly regarded by the High Priestess.

“If I may,” the goblin began.  “May I ask how you know the High Priestess?”  Salazar glanced down at the goblin, studying her.  As the student shuffled under her gaze, Salazar smiled.  Such an inquisitive mind, no wonder she was taught by Pheranx.

“Before I answer, what is known about Pheranx.” The student jumped at how familiar Salazar addressed the High Priestess, scared out of her mind at who she might be attending.

“Uh, s-she - she has been reborn in every generation following the birth of her last life,” the student said, scratching her ear with her clawed hand.  “She has lead our people since the Uther Wars, and has kept us safe even in the wars that followed. It is through her that we were given the bank and all rights to the safety, growth, and control of the properties within.”  Salazar paused, and almost fell out of her seat with the burst of laughter that followed. The student stood, frozen, staring at her.

“Oh those fucking -” the words that followed were in Salazar's mother tongue, not in English.  There was no exact translation, just as there was no exact translation for the endearments between her and the other Founders.  If you were to ask her what she said, the closest she could say would be “Those fucking salamander minded dung breathers”. “The  _ world _ actually gave you all complete control over  _ all _ the finances for the magical society?  And then fucking  _ declares wars _ against you lot?!”  Salazar began to slump in her laughter, tears in her eyes from it. 

“Indeed, Sal,” a voice came from an entrance to the right of the desk.  The student shot up, straight as a board as High Priestess Pheranx appeared in the office.  “It seems they have forgotten all the teachings you ingrained in all of your students.” Salazar's laughter subsided as she stood up, smiling at Pheranx.  For once, it was a warm, bright smile that made her eyes sparkle - a genuinely happy smile. Pheranx was elegantly garbed, with a delicately styles that were somehow both foreign and Druidic is fashion.  She wore a fantastic headdress that Helga had helped in the creation of, with each of them creating a singular gemstone that would hold their Goblin-made weapons upon their deaths, to be held for later collection by themselves upon Awakening.

Salazar's jaw dropped as she saw that the only gem left in the storage facility was her own.  A single jade stone, spherical, was held in the centre left of the headdress. There were three empty spots, at the moment clearly empty due to the stone of Salazar's presence.  Other than that, the empty space looked as though it was a design to show the gorgeous furs beneath.

Pheranx walked forward, her arms outstretched to greet Salazar, who also stepped forward and held out her arms in a mirror image.  Their hands grasped each other, and quickly kissed in greeting as were their traditions -  _ goblin _ traditions for old friends.  Those that witnessed the greeting gaped, shocked at the intense familiarity between the two that seemingly were just meeting.

“It has been too long, Salazar,” Pheranx greeted in their native tongue, the tongue of the Druids.  Salazar smiled morosely.

“I never intended for the pool to take so long for my reincarnation,” she assured.  “If I may ask, how long ago did the others receive their weapon?” Pheranx grinned, pointed teeth shining.  

“Oh, don't you worry my dear,” she pat Salazar's cheek.  “The enchantments in place will return the weapons upon your new deaths.  Not one of you should be close, if last time was any way to guess.” Salazar's shoulders relaxed, relieving a tension she had no idea she was even holding.

“That is very good to hear,” she muttered.  Pheranx reached up and plucked the jade from her headdress, handing it to Salazar.  Upon contact with her skin, the ancient magic reacted to her own and turned the jade into twin short swords.  Salazar smiled, twisting her old blades in her hands. They each had half the jade that Pheranx had handed her in the pommel, with a three serpent design in the fairly simplistic hilt and guard.  The mouths of the serpents opened into the blades, in which her old name was etched into the blade in an elegant script that Pheranx herself had written. 

“They have longed for you,” Pheranx said in English, for the sake of the goblins around her.  Salazar nodded, not considering asking about whether it was speaking of the others or the blades.  “And there is business that we must address - specifically, the title you received on your deathbed.”

Salazar blinked dumbly, allowing herself to let her mask down for this old friend.

“Title?” Pheranx stopped, and chuckled.

“Salazar, King Artur named you a Knight of the Round Table for your sacrifice and honour for the kingdom,” Pheranx said gently.  Salazar's jaw slightly dropped - she remembered Artur kneeling near her, but she didn't remember anything other than the wails of her brother and sisters.  Merlin must have thought that she remembered this happening, because it hadn't been a subject of his mind when she tore through it. “You must understand, I  _ have _ to explain the significance of this before we can even begin to handle your inheritances.”

Salazar sighed and nodded, and together they walked to the desk, sitting across from each other.

* * *

 

Salazar held her head in her hands, Sirius next to her.  She and Pheranx had agreed to keep her Knighthood a secret, and discussed the rest of the subjects.  Which included her own inheritance of her bloody fucking lordship.

She wasn't a lord, last she had remembered!

“So let me get this straight,” Salazar leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose.  Sirius was just frozen in shock. “I am the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin, who died killing his younger brother, who attempted a civil war to usurp the throne from King Artur.” Pheranx nodded.  “He was then given a full formal title by King Artur for his work, including a knighthood that was not passed on.” Pheranx nodded and Salazar mentally cursed her for not mentioning that when she was addressing the Knighthood.  Because apparently the title was considered separate by the mother-bloody-fucking idiots at the Ministry, which was absolute _bullshit_. “He had one living child, Celeste, who married into House Potter. Which then gave House Potter their nobility, heightened by becoming a Ley House - through Celeste.” Pheranx nodded.  “Because of her cousins trying to claim the title, Celeste made it a requirement of the title that we, her line and their's, could only inherit the title if they were in the True Line - as she called it - and killed a branch of the False Line - again, as she called it.” Pheranx nodded.

“Voldemort was the last of the False Line, and Dorea is considered the Heir because his curse reflected off her.” Sirius ended, seemingly trying to work through his shock.  He hadn't blinked in minutes.

“That is, indeed, correct.” Pheranx confirmed.  “It is also worth noting that the Vaults of Slytherin, just as the Vaults of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, are the eldest due to their exchange and trust in my clan.”  Sirius looked up.

“Exchange?”

“In return for the designs and control of the enchantments of the bank and kingdom, we the nation crafted them 4 master weapons.” Salazar glanced down at her nails, now silver in colour, where her magic hid her swords.  “Beyond that, Salazar Slytherin was the first to trust the nation and my ancestor through his close relation with the First High Priestess of the Nation, Pheranx the First.” Pheranx smiled. “Upon ascension, we each claim the name of Pheranx.  I, myself, am Pheranx XL, the 40th.”

Salazar blinked, and felt her eyes water slightly as she understood what Pheranx had committed herself to.  Constantly dying and awakening, no wonder her people held such undying respect for her. She was the single most experienced individual when it came to anything involving life.

“Now, there is also the matter of the inheritances from wills,” Pheranx broke off of the heavy subject, indicating towards the pile of scrolls next to her.  “Many families were brought to the border of extinction, typically with one or two members alive. These wills are those that did not survive to continue the bloodline, and in honour of the sacrifice of House Potter for ending the war, they listed you, Viscountess Potter and Heiress Black, as the sole inheritor of their estate.  Needless to say, the Ministry was quite upset at losing that gold.” Pheranx's smile was wide and a tinge sadistic, and Salazar twitched into a smile. Sirius, beside her, barked out a laugh.

“Wouldn't surprise me, they want to get their hands on fucking everything.” He scratched his head and narrowed his eyes.  “So, who's been taking care of the estates in the meantime?”

“The House Potter Account Manager, though now with the inheritance of House Slytherin it falls under my jurisdiction.  Thankfully, I am more than qualified to take care of this.” Pheranx finished, and grabbed the first scroll. “Shall we go over the inheritances first, and then end with a final statement and assessment of the accounts?”

Sirius and Salazar both groaned slightly, they were going to be here all day.  Pheranx, on the other hand, just grinned. 

* * *

 

“How the utter  _ fuck _ did this go on for so long?” Arcturus demanded, standing in the Ley House Offices.  Currently, the heads and regents were meeting to address the entirety of the concerns of Peter Pettigrew wiping and manipulating the memories of the Weasley Family - and in doing so, threatened the Statute of Secrecy in the United Kingdom.

Contrary to what the Ministry had taught, the Ley Houses only answered to one authority (regardless of their roles in the Wizengamot): the Crown.  Who was standing at the head of their meeting table, unimpressed in her royal entirety.

“Bagnold has been arrested in suspicion of conspiracy to violate the Druidic Treaty,” Amelia Bones, Regent of Ley House Bones, answered.  “As has Fudge and his entire office. Bagnold was the first to cancel the tests for mind magic on the Ministry employees, and Fudge has only furthered the damage with his Ministerial Orders.”  Arcturus scowled and glanced down the table.

“So how did it escape notice that Arthur Weasley, Head of Muggle Relations and the number one authority on the Statute of Secrecy in the United bloody Kingdom - pardon the language, Your Majesty - was showing all the blatant signs of mental manipulation?” That was pointed out by Gabriel Evansclear, Head of Ley House Evansclear.  Bones sighed.

“It was reported countless times to the Department of the Minister and ignored - likely due to bribes.  Many people who had been previously exonerated on charges of being a Death Eater have been arrested in collusion with this.” Arcturus looked up at the Queen, who slowly nodded.  Good gods…

“Then they are traitors to the Crown, acting with intent of destabilizing the government and violating the Druidic Contract,” he breathed out.  Silence overtook the room as the other heads and regents contemplated what this meant.

The Druidic Contract was was ended the Druidic War, separating Witchcraft and Magecraft under the Crown.  Should either side intentionally work to undermine either side, be it the other or their own, the Crown could determine that the opposing society could claim complete dominion over the other.

“You-Know-Who wanted access to Magecraft, then,” Dowager Longbottom, Regent of Ley House Longbottom, was the one to speak up. “That would explain the war, destabilizing the Ministry and attacking Our Houses.  You-Know-Who needed something in Magecraft, and the only way to get it was through breaking the Druidic Contract.”

But _what_ , was the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 5,016
> 
> Gods, I'm sorry for the slow update. I had such intense writer's block that you can't even imagine. Anyway, so plots begin to unfold. What was it that Tommy wanted? Where are the other Founders? What will happen to the Death Eaters now?
> 
> Find out… Eventually. Not sure when I'll make that happen.
> 
> Otherwise: yes, it is blatantly obvious that I adore Sirius. While extremely immature with his own age group, he did everything he could to be there for Harry and help him - even risking his own life coming back to England to help Harry during the Tournament. As a result, I'm emphasizing that with Sirius here.
> 
> He's in shock, but is absolutely refusing to acknowledge how torn he is in front of Dorea/Salazar. On one hand, she's the Heiress of Slytherin - on the other, none of them knew about the inheritance and none of them could have prepared for how twisted Salazar's story became (Knight of Round Table). Meaning that, in order to not hurt his daughter, Sirius is taking a step back and will contemplate this before acting. Likely ask for advice because “How the fuck do I handle that my daughter has inherited the name that my abusive family worshiped?”, and I'm not going to spoil how this goes.


	5. Chapter Five

Merlin returned to Grimmauld Place exhausted, drained from the meeting and the demanded audience with Her Majesty afterwards.  Those who had been let off on charges after being discovered as Death Eaters were being forcefully rounded up as the meeting was going on - amongst them, the husband of his niece - Lucius Malfoy.

Merlin had been forced to then reveal to her that Lucius had come forward after being Marked, after Voldemort had taken the man under his control quite literally.  Merlin had taught him to at least be able to repair the damage that Voldemort had done, and in return Lucius gave him information on Voldemort's actions.

The man was ambitious, but when Voldemort had attempted to demand that Narcissa bed him as part of Lucius' initiation, Lucius became concerned.  The only thing that had kept him from raping Narcissa was that Abraxas Malfoy, one of Voldemort's first supporters, had demanded a fidelity clause in the marriage contract between the two.  Even as horrible as he was, Voldemort did not intentionally render the wives of his followers barren before they had heirs for his followers.

Bellatrix had been a learning experience in that.

As Merlin began to make his way up the stairs of the house, he paused as sounds hit his ears.  Piano and laughter - the parlour, then. Up the flight of stairs to the room with the open door.  He was mildly surprised to see that Sirius was teaching Salazar to play the piano, with Remus sitting on a nearby chaise reading a book.  He smiled as Salazar giggled at mucking up the melody, with Sirius laughing along and changing the octave alongside her.

It was times like these that he could see Salazar was genuinely, truly happy - even if only for an hour or two.  And Merlin would happily destroy everything he had helped create if it meant that Salazar could be happy again.

* * *

Molly Weasley was sitting in Saint Mungos, waiting anxiously as her children were tested and treated for memory alterations.  She could now remember what had been erased, and she felt sick that Peter Pettigrew had not only been allowed within reach of her children, but of her family's ward stone as well.

Contrary to popular opinion of her, Molly was skilled in more than just cooking and knitting.  She had been taught how to be a matriarch by her Auntie Muriel, after all. This meant that she had been forced to constantly study warding, domestic spells, and in the Prewett Family speciality, disguise.

It was the reason they had the ghoul, after all.  Humanoid creatures like that were easy to disguise as people, and she had successfully disguised Arthur as being sick during the war due to that.

She grabbed at the roots of her hair, agonizing in how she failed her family.  Bill was being inspected at Gringotts, where he had been hired - and by the looks of it, very minimal mental manipulation had been put in play on her oldest.

Charlie had received the worst of it.  Being as dedicated to magical creatures as he was, he had been the one to help take care of Pettigrew the most, especially at school.  And whenever he would do so, Pettigrew wouldn't take the chance and would erase anything remotely suspicious from his memory. As a result, Charlie was receiving Ministry approval to postpone and retake his NEWTs when the treatment had ended and he was no longer as damaged as he had been before.

Percy was after Charlie, having treated Pettigrew as his pet.  There had been many times in which Percy had walked into his room to a human Pettigrew, and as a result of the memory magic his personality had, for lack of better description, shifted.  He had become more formal, and while they had all thought it was because of his schooling, in reality it was because they had been turning blind bloody eye to the signs he had been showing of memory manipulation.

The twins, Ron, and Ginny had been the least affected, likely because they had never shown an interest in Scabbers, - Pettigrew - but also because they had not attended Hogwarts to the same capacity that Charlie and Percy had together.  George and Fred were second years, now, and had spent their time at school with their year and not with family.  Ginny was always disgusted by the rat, so she would actively try to avoid Pettigrew in that form.

Molly sighed and leaned back in her seat, tears streaming down her face as she remembered every instance that Pettigrew had erased from her mind.

At least Ginny, her baby, hadn't been affected by this.

* * *

Thought it took awhile to properly adjust to each other's natures, Salazar found Justin to be quite the impressive dance partner.  He was wary - wary enough to concern her - and paid attention to his surroundings. He followed Ms. Hyodo's instructions without hesitation, even the instructions of fitness when not at the studio.

It only made Salazar more thankfully for the family chest.

"1 - 2 - 3 - 1 - 2 - 3  -" The counts from one of the new assistants rolled past Salazar, steps perfectly in time with both Justin and the beat.  Step, forward, left, spin - the choreography that they followed fascinated Salazar. It was a twist off of the traditional waltz, which they had moved on from in the past few months that they had been dancing.  Ms. Hyodo expressed an interest in having the two of them compete in formal competitions later on.

And, quite frankly, Salazar had developed a vested interest in the boy.  One that she hadn't felt since she had taught Wyrrden and Brí.

Oh yes, she felt the urge to take the boy under her wing and prune him into as brilliant a magic user as she could push him.  Oh, she would push him to his limits, see if he would break them, and then help him mold himself outside of them - yes, just like she did for Wyrrden.

Granted, she also knew far better about how to bring a student to that point and not break them entirely now.  That had happened when she had helped Rowena with an apprentice of hers - Godric and Helga banned the two of them from working together on pushing students again.  Apparently their methods had been too hard.

She hummed in thought as Justin spun her on the spot.  It had horrified Rowena when her apprentice had died, and from suicide no less.  She refused to take on another after that.

The dance continued for a minute longer before the song came to an end, in which Salazar and Justin took the pose in the manner Ms. Hyodo taught them to upon finishing a dance.  One of the assistants clapped, whereas Ms. Hyodo simply nodded.

"Excellent - now, as for improvements," Ms. Hyodo began lecturing Salazar and Justin on how they would improve on their dance capabilities, together and separate. The lecturing went on for half an hour, with Ms. Hyodo correcting posture during different positions and ensuring that their dance was as perfect as she could make it for two 10 year olds.

Salazar knew that she would need a pain reliever when she got back to Grimmauld Place.  Her muscles were screaming in protest of the exercise, one that was so different from her normal workouts.  Who in their right bloody mind had created a dance form that had one partner completely supporting the weight of the other, while in heels?!  Monsters, monsters must have done this to punish those who danced.

Salazar tried not to giggle as she could practically hear Godric and her dramatic speech over the fact.  He would have been right here with her if he could, complaining and dramatizing the entire subject just so the two of them could laugh about the strain.

She was so lonely without them…

Salazar was torn from her thoughts as there was a loud clattering in the waiting room, shouting, and the doors slammed open.  A bear of a man, massive in stature and aggressive as an animal, stormed in. Before he even looked at them, Salazar felt Justin shrink behind her, hiding in fear.

Rage swelling in her chest, Salazar straightened and squared herself, prepared to take whoever it was that was scaring Justin down - just as she would do for Brín.

The man was, thankfully, distracted by Ms. Hyodo storming in front of him.

"You aren't allowed here," she growled.  "Leave now - Sage! 999!" The man snarled at her, and grabbed her by the front of her shirt.  A few children shrieked in fear at the sight of it.

"Listen here, you bitch," Salazar's eyes narrowed in anger as Justin was completely cowering behind her.  "I'm here for the boy - and I'm going to teach that sissy boy a lesson he damn well won't forget!"

Control, maintain your control, Salazar mentally chanted.  Her protective rage was screaming within her to  _ destroy _ , to ensure that nothing touched what as  _ hers _ -

"Mr. Finch, control yourself!" 

" _ WHERE IS HE _ ?!"

As Justin whimpered and shrunk back, terrified out of his mind at the grandfather that was threatening him, Salazar lost the control that she had been forcing.  

Mr. Finch heard the crack before he felt it, falling to the floor as the chair that slammed against his head clattered next to him.  Ms. Hyodo stood there, stunned. Justin stepped out from behind Salazar, scared and in shock that  _ he hadn't done that _ .

Mr. Finch groaned, slowly looking up.  Initially, he felt a rage overcome him at the sight of his grandson - and then his instincts came into play when he saw Salazar.  His bladder emptied itself, his body shaking and failing to support him however much he tried to.

Jakob Finch was well aware of the existence of magic, though he did not know it as such.  He had fought against the Nazis - and had watched in terror as Charlus and Dorea Potter had sliced through the non magical soldiers one by one.  The utter monstrous strength, their magical auras that they had cast when they slaughtered the army of those responsible for the death of their daughter - it had terrified him to his very core.

When his grandson, Justin, showed signs of the same abilities as those two, Jakob had reacted in fear and hate of the powers he did not understand.  He beat Justin, beat him until Jakob's own employees held him down as they called 999 to get his grandson the medical aid that saved his life. And now, the one whose aura, whose power caused more fear and response that he needed to  _ flee _ , flee or he would  _ die _ \- it was not his grandson.

It was Salazar, her eyes pure silver in her complete and utter rage of the abuser before her.  The air in the room spun, like a mini whirlwind, as Salazar's eyes began to shine with her power.  Jakob, for the first time since he was almost killed by the Nazis, knew that  _ this _ was the face of his death, and fainted.

Salazar's aura and eyes slapped back to normal as Justin grabbed her arm.  Ms. Hyodo panted slightly, eyes wide as she recognised that these were the signs of something that she would never encounter in anyone else.  As the three conscious people in the room calmed down, the sound of sirens rang in the distance. Justin's eyes watered, a smile slowly stretched across his face.  Salazar could feel his magic singing in comfort.

"You're like  _ me _ ."

* * *

Isaac and Dr. Mary Jane Finch-Fletchley sat in the parlour of Grimmauld place.  Between them, their son, Justin. Across from them, Arcturus and Sirius Black, with Dorea Potter-Black sat between them.

They were comprehending what had been explained to them - that their son was a wizard, that magic existed, and that  _ that _ was the reason that Jakob Finch had tried to murder their son.

"So - this school that you mentioned -" Mary Jane began.  "It's set to begin in September, next year…?" Sirius and Arcturus nodded.

"The cut off date for enrollment is August 30th, so any child that turns 11 after that date attends in the next year," Sirius explained.  "I was one of those students. With Justin's birthday being before that, he'll be attending next September with Dorea." Dorea smiled brightly up at the two, and Mary Jane felt a smidge of relief.

"This society of yours -are there racists?  Anti Semites?" Isaac asked. "We aren't Jewish in religion, but my gran was a Jew that fled persecution.  Would Justin be safe from that shit?" Arcturus hummed and thought for a minute.

"As long as Justin is not forceful of the salvation through any god, he will not be persecuted for his racial heritage." Isaac and Mary Jane sighed in a deep relief.  "However, there is the matter of his heritage not being magical." Mary Jane hardened.

"What do you mean." It was not a question.

"There are many of noble standing that, just as in your experience have a deep hatred who they call nouveau riche, in our society have a deep hatred of those who are not born into the society.  People like Justin." Arcturus took a sip of his tea, letting it settle in before he continued with the explanation. "10 years ago, there was a civil war in our society over the matter. The leader of the persecutors, and the leader of the losing side, called himself by the name of Lord Voldemort.  I'm certain you heard of all the disasters that happened in the span of 20 to 10 years ago."  

"Those - those were the civil war?" Isaac's voice was weak.  He was clearly pale with dread of what could happen with his son entering this society.

"Yep," Sirius said calmly.  "You're currently looking at a veteran of that war, a veteran of the Second War, and the reason the civil war ended." Dorea sent Sirius as look at how blasé he was about the information, and Arcturus sighed deeply at how…   _ Open _ his grandson was.

Mary Jane and Isaac simply shared confused looks.

"I don't…  What do you mean, the reason it ended?" Mary Jane asked.  Dorea sighed.

"That would be me," she said as calmly as she could.  "Voldemort attempted to murder my entire family - my mother was mundane born, like Justin.  Since she and dad fought against him, Voldemort took it as a personal duty to kill them himself."  She brushed her hair to reveal her curse scar momentarily. "Mum and dad used a ritual that would use their deaths to spare my life.  The spell Voldemort used to try and kill me rebounded, and instead he died." Mary Jane looked horrified.

"He tried to murder you - when you were a baby?" She was breathless, unable to comprehend the cruelty that someone would have to contain to even attempt such a thing.  Justin was simply shocked, and Isaac looked sick.

"He was like a fucking Nazi…" He muttered.  Arcturus smiled dryly.

"Accurate description, considering that Voldemort was heavily inspired by the Third Reich."  Justin stared at Dorea blankly, trying to imagine a world where his friend was dead. He couldn't - not only had she become a great friend to him, spending time with him to build him back up as a person after his granddad had tried to kill him, but she had _protected_ him.  She had put herself between him and his granddad, pushed him behind her, sheltered him, and used her own magic to take Jakob Finch down.

Dorea finished her tea, and then mentioned to the table that she was going to go and refresh herself.  Justin watched her stand up, and with a grace that no child should possess, she walked out of the room and up the stairs.  

Unknown to all but Merlin, who was watching Justin, the boy had effectively become Salazar's biggest worshiper and follower in the span of a single afternoon.  The conversation continued between the Blacks and the Finch-Fletchleys, explaining that they could essentially take Justin in as a sort protected citizen, and thus cause anyone who attacked the boy to have to deal with the House of Black instead of just Justin.

Upstairs, Salazar calmed her breathing.  Casting a circle on her washroom mirror, she scryed on one Jakob Finch.  The man, from what she could see, was in his home, alone, nursing his headache.  As the scrying faded, Salazar's face twisted into a cruel and unimaginably sadistic grin that did not suit a 10 year old in the slightest.

There was a method of magic that required the use of both a magical core and magical circuits - Phasing.  A predecessor to Apparition and Circle Teleportation, Phasing united one's body with the dominant element of their magic and utilized it to transport one instantaneously from one location to the other.  Just as with Apparition and Circle Teleportation, Phasing required knowledge of one's destination. Unlike Apparition, Phasing was silent, and unlike Circle Teleportation, it did not require any focus on both ends of the transport.

Salazar's Phasing was in taking the form of mist, breathing out as she Phased from her washroom into Jakob Finch's dining room.  The man in question looked up, and as he recognized Salazar, terror crossed his face.

A quick flick of her wrist and the jade of her blades acted as a temporary wardstone - one that she carried with her at all times.  Jakob flinched at the action, expecting it to hurt him in the same manner that Dorea Potter had sliced Nazis in half decades ago.

"Oh, do sit, Mr. Finch," Salazar drawled out to the man, half sitting above his chair.  "We have a lot to talk about, don't we."

"How the bleeding fuck did you get in my house?"  Salazar rolled her eyes at the demand.

"I told you to  _ sit _ ."  With the command, Jakob was forced down into the seat -  all too gently, in Salazar's opinion. However, it would not be proper to eviscerate him yet.

"Get out - I'll call the bobbies!  My employees'll -"

"Seeing as they can neither see nor hear anything that is going on in here, they will do  _ nothing _ .  They will not help you, they will not call the police - they will go about their business until I leave, and it is  _ only _ then that they will see you." Salazar spat, her rage palpable in the bubble of a ward.  Jakob nearly soiled himself in fear, acknowledging that this child would be how he died for the second time that day.

And, this time it seemed, he was damn right about it.

"Now, let's begin this  _ discussion _ , shall we?" Salazar's voice was sickly sweet, opposite to her gaze of pure hatred.  "Let's start nice and sweet and simple - you are going to tell me everything that you did to my student."  Jakob blinked, confusion crossing his face. He… Didn't expect that, honestly.

"Who?" Salazar's eyes flashed silver as she leaned back, head held in a hand.

"Your _grandson_.  He is my student." Salazar drawled.  "Therefore, _you_ _hurt_ what is _mine_."  Jakob stared at her, confusion not receding in the slightest.

"His parents would never hire a kid to be his tutor - and definitely not a freak like you!" He spat, literally, at Salazar.  The spit landed on her hand, and as she gazed down at it, mentally thanked the old bigot for gifting her a bodily fluid of his.

"Whether his parents have agreed or not is none of the matter.  I had decided that he will be my student, and therefore he  _ is _ ."  Salazar squeezed the saliva tight in her fist, causing Jakob to choke with the magic she used.  " _ Regardless _ of what anyone else may think about the matter."

As Salazar strangled the man magically, Jakob rolled off the chair and onto the floor.  As one of his employees, a maid, walked past the room, he reached out to her - only for her eyes to glass over as she peered into the dining room.

"''Ey Billy, where'd Mr. Finch get to?" She shouted out, walking down a hall and out of sight.  "I thought 'e was in the dinin' room, but 'e ain't!" Jakob felt sweat slide down his spine, knowing now and  _ for a fact _ that Salazar had been telling the truth.

"Oh, did the old man not believe me?" Salazar taunted, finally deeming it appropriate to leave her own chair.  "Well, it seems I was telling the truth, doesn't it?" With that, Salazar knelt next to Jakob, and wiped his spit onto his own forehead.  Using her own magical knowledge, she quickly used the spit to inscribe runes onto his skin - runes that would, for lack of better description, essentially place him under a permanent variation of the Imperius Curse.

"Yes master Salazar," Jakob said, mentally screaming out.  Unlike the Imperius, which would fog the mind of the recipient, utilizing the runes trapped the victim in their own mind as Salazar could force him to do quite literally anything she wanted him to.

"Good boy," Salazar taunted, patting his head like a dog's.  "See, even the most hateful mundanes like you can be taught some manners.  Now, as for what you did to my Justin…" Salazar's face twisted into a terrifying, disturbed grin.  "Shall we start with the legs?"

Jakob, throughout the entire session, cursed and damned everyone - Salazar, Justin, God - everyone and anyone that he could put blame for this on.

Not once did he ever blame himself.

* * *

Sirius frowned, checking his watch as Arcturus and Isaac discussed the details of having Justin protected under the title of Student of House Black.  Legally speaking, it would make the Lord Black the Magical Guardian of Justin, which would mean any and all contact between Justin's parents and the Magical World would go through Arcturus.  While this could be more of a hassle from an outside view, it would also be more safe - and for one reason in particular.

"Despite Justin being your child, the government has not made it a requirement to inform muggleborn's parents of anything that may be of concern," Arcturus explained neatly.  "For example, in 1945, a student at Hogwarts was murdered. Muggleborn - from what the current Headmaster informed me, her parents, and the parents of the other muggleborn students, were merely informed of an accident having occurred.  In contrast, the magical community was made aware of the entire occurrence." Arcturus took a moment to sip his tea, allowing the information to sink in.

"So you're saying that if something were to happen, even if it were murder, we would not be informed of it." Mary Jane said in an extremely cold tone.  

"Precisely.  Legally speaking, the duty is on the child to keep their families informed of current events - or, if the child purchases a subscription to magical news sources for their parents, the non magical families may stay informed through that matter.  However, pertinent information for your child's safety would not be given to you without my demands of it." Mary Jane narrowed her eyes at that statement.

"And you would guarantee that we would receive this information?" Arcturus smiled.

"I would do the same as I've done for non magical parents in the past - upon being summoned for a discussion that would be in regards for your child, I would collect you to participate in the conversation as well.  As Magical Guardian, they would not be allowed to refute my bringing you there." Sirius looked at his grandfather in genuine surprise. Arcturus smiled slightly at him. "When Dorea confessed that James was head over heels for Lily, I approached her parents with the same offer.  They accepted it, and it truly helped in their relationship with Lily, being able to understand everything that she was going through at school. Especially in relation to Snape."

"Wait, relation to Snivellus?" Sirius asked.  Isaac frowned at the name, particularly the mocking tone Sirius still held in it.

"Yes - he grew up in the same neighbourhood as Lily.  I'm sure you're well aware of how that's how she knew that he was the one to murder her parents - Regulus confessed to me after the fact that Snape bragged about it being his initiation to join the Death Eaters." Sirius felt his gaze flash with red as the memories flashed before him.

Lily and he had been discussing school, after her fall out with Snape she had gotten closer to the Marauders (slightly).  In particular, she was genuinely discussing the non magical world with him, especially after hearing that he was taking the class out of actual interest and no just to spite his parents (a bonus).  That had been when Dumbledore had approached her, and after a moment of pause asked Sirius to accompany him, as Lily would need the support.

And gods, had she.  She had wailed, raged, destroyed a good number of objects in Dumbledore's office - and most of all, had cursed Snape's name for all eternity.  Dumbledore had remained stone faced the entire time, allowing Sirius to comfort his friend - and the entire encounter was also the reason why Dumbledore hadn't expelled him for trying to murder Snape in return, for reacting in such a way.

Though it had taken Lily, James, and Remus a good while to forgive Sirius for putting Remus at risk like that.

"I see," Sirius muttered quietly.  "That's why the Headmaster brought me along with her to give her the news." Arcturus nodded solemnly.  

"Even as your parents tried to disown you, I refused to.  You were a safe connection to her Magical Guardian." Sirius sighed and leaned back - it also explained why Arcturus had been so violent with his mother upon hearing her insult Lily.  He had a duty to protect her.

Sirius glanced down at his watch again.  Dorea had been gone for a while now…

As he stood up, he glanced at the Finch-Fletchley family.  "I'm going to check up on Dorea," he excused himself. Arcturus nodded and allowed Sirius to leave - likely knowing how emotional the Azkaban survivor was about to get.  While Sirius had been attending Mind Healer sessions, paid for by the Ministry due to Crouch's abuse of power, the emotional responses were still overwhelming sometimes.

Once outside, Sirius climbed up a level of stairs before leaning on the wall, slowly sliding down into a sit.  Taking deep breaths, he suppressed the tears that threatened to leak, tightly digging his nails into his thigh to try and control his breathing.

He had failed Lily and James so many times over - if he had known that Arcturus was Lily's Magical Guardian - if they had known that he was safe - if they had known how much Arcturus wanted to keep them safe, if only for Auntie Dorea -

Gods, he had failed his brother and sister so  _ spectacularly _ .

Taking his time to calm down, Sirius eventually gathered himself together enough to drag himself to Dorea's room.  Knocking, he was surprised to find the door ajar, with Dorea fast asleep at her desk. Suppressing his emotions further, Sirius tiptoed over to check on the girl he was beginning to see as his own.  A quick diagnosis charm told him that she had mild magical exhaustion - likely from protecting Justin earlier.

Sirius smiled down at the small girl, brushing a piece of hair out of her face.  She was so good, so amazing - James and Lily would both be so overwhelmingly proud of her - gods, he knew he certainly was.

Sirius gently picked Dorea up, carried her over to her bed, and laid her down as delicately as he could.  A flick of his wand removed her shoes and pulled the old quilt, made by Sirius' great aunt, up over her. Dimming the lights, Sirius paused.  Debating with himself for a moment, he leaned down and kissed her forehead - and watched as Dorea shifted, smiling slightly in her sleep.

"Sweet dreams," Sirius whispered, walking quietly out of the room.  Closing the door behind him, he failed to notice Kreacher emerging from the shadows.  

Kreacher crept up to Salazar, resting quietly on her bed.  In his hands, he held a locket - a precious locket, entrusted to him by Master Regulus.  It pulsed in his hand, the magic terrified of what it was sensing - the sheer destructive capabilities of Salazar's.  He could feel its magic twisting, as though it were in pain by being in Salazar's presence.

"Young Mistress is strong," Kreacher whispered, tucking the locket into Salazar's hand.  He watched as the magic of the locket struggled, lashed out - and watched as Lily and James' final ritual destroyed the magical threat to their daughter.  "Young Mistress is safe," Kreacher pried back the locket, watching it transform from gold with a snake into silver. He stared at it for a moment, and then returned it to Salazar's hand.

"Young Mistress…  is most important." And with that, Kreacher left- unknowingly having used Salazar to destroy a piece of Tom Riddle's soul, weakening the shade of him that remained.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 4,791
> 
> This definitely took a lot longer than I intended to write. A bunch of scenes just kept leading into writer's block, so in an attempt to solve that I took the same route I did with chapter 4: use different scene breaks to make the writing flow better.
> 
> And boy did it.
> 
> So Salazar has now actually killed someone, we start diving into Sirius' health, and now Justin has become, in a way, devoted to Salazar. After all, Salazar intentionally stood between him and his abuser in an attempt to keep Justin safe - and that will have an impact on the boy.
> 
> As for Jakob Finch, I felt that I needed to have a reason for to bring Justin further into the story, outside of just dance partners. So, his grandfather is a WW2 vet who witnessed the slaughter that Dorea and Charlus Potter caused in the war, his father doesn't know how to stand up to Jakob because he was raised in a way that was unquestionable to disobey a man in such an honourable position, and his mother has a PhD and actually is willing to put her foot down for her son's safety.
> 
> As for Lily's past - it's a headcanon that I have had for a while now. Lily would have likely forgiven Snape after a while (if he actually proved that he was changing), however this genuinely gives her a reason to not want anything to do with Snape again. It also gives Petunia a damn good reason to hate magic the way that she does (but this does not excuse the abuse).
> 
> Anywho, I'll see you all whenever I end up updating next. Toodles!


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